Whole
by Van Donovan
Summary: MMPR AU Six years after losing his Green Ranger powers, Tommy has been consumed by inner darkness and a destructive lifestyle. Can Billy bring Tommy back, or will his attempts strain the Rangers too much as they face an old enemy? BxT, RxA slash
1. Chapter 1

MMPR AU after "The Green Candle" where Tommy never becomes the White Ranger. (Picks up in 1999.)

**Pairings:** eventually Billy/Tommy, with background Skull/Kim, Adam/Rocky, Jason/Zack and Aisha/OMC.

**Warnings:** drug/alcohol use, mentioned dub-con, prostitution, adult language, sexual situations/innuendo, Alternate Universe, potential spoilers through Space.

**Summary:** Six years after losing his Green Ranger powers, Tommy has been consumed by inner darkness and a destructive lifestyle. Can Billy bring Tommy back or will his attempts strain the Rangers too much as they face the return of an old enemy?

**Notes:** Fic will be probably 20-25 chapters long. Thanks to azelmaroark for beta editing for me.

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**Chapter one:**

"Excuse me," Billy says, "I'm looking for the Cat's Beard." He's walked up and down this alleyway three times now, feeling more and more frustrated each time.

The man he's addressed appears to have been hewn from the same material that makes up the wall behind him. His beady dark gaze takes in Billy slowly. No surprise registers on his face, but it's clear he can't believe Billy is actually addressing him. "You lost or something?"

"Actually, yes." Billy's not afraid. He's taken out bigger threats than this guy unmorphed, and anyway he has his communicator and morpher on him, if things get ugly. "I'm looking for an old friend; a man by the name of Tommy Oliver. Someone told me he was working at the Cat's Beard on 32nd and Broad." He looks up at the dilapidated street sign in the distance. Unlike Angel Grove after the war, he suspects this place has always been this way. "This is the location; I'm just not seeing any places of business."

The man's dark eyes sweep over him again, reassessing. "You're a friend of Tommy Oliver?" His head and thick column of a neck nod as one unit. "Go on downstairs."

Stepping aside, the man reveals a tiny stairwell leading to a dimly lit door. It's like he's uncovered a secret passageway in a role-playing video game, but it's not what Billy expected to find.

Logically, Billy thinks to himself as he slowly begins the descent down the fetid stairwell, the name Tommy Oliver belongs to more than one man. He knows, statistically speaking, that's a given. Neither name is rare. Thomas has been in the top twenty-five most popular male baby names for over 100 years. There are twenty-three Olivers in Angel Grove alone, and one of those is an unrelated Thomas Oliver. It's entirely likely— in fact highly probable—that if there is a Tommy Oliver working in a facility at the bottom of these stairs, it is not the Tommy Oliver that Billy had once known as the Green Ranger.

Still, he's come this far. Devil's Cove isn't exactly a stone throw away from home, and the traffic's going to be a nightmare until at least seven. There's no reason not to investigate.

Beyond the dingy door, Billy finds himself transported to a lively, bustling club bursting with pounding music and pulsing lights. A doorman gives him a quizzical look but steps aside, allowing Billy to stagger into the throng.

It's not crowded, but it's far from empty. A large stage dominates the basement room, bathed in pinkish-red hues. Three male dancers occupy the floor, all scantily clad as they wildly swing themselves around the metal poles installed for such purposes. Scattered tables are arranged in front of the stage, and they are half filled with patrons, both male and female, but predominantly male. Nearer to the stage are several more engrossed viewers, clutching fistfuls of dollars to tuck into the dancer's g-strings.

Turning his back to the stage, Billy's eyes scan the expansive bar that fills the left wall. The bartender's eyes are on the dancers, even though he has patrons seated on black vinyl-topped stools trying to get his attention. Billy spies some waitstaff—female—and then he's back to the bouncer. There's a double door on the far right blazoned "Employes Only" (Billy wonders where the other E went), but no Tommy.

He's about to head over to the bar to launch an inquiry when one of the waitstaff approaches him, pasting on a smile. Up close he notices her extra thick make up attempting to cover her five o'clock shadow, and he makes a smile he's sure is more genuine than hers.

"Can I show you to a table?" Her voice is sweet but husky, probably from years of smoking.

She's cute even though she's obviously been on her feet all day and is exhausted. Billy wants to accept just to make her day easier, buy a drink and leave a fifty percent tip, but he doesn't. That's not what he's here for. "I'm looking for Tommy Oliver."

There's a subtle change in her face at those words—a glimmer of disappointment—and her gaze slides off Billy, turning toward the stage where the dancers have managed to lose even more of their clothing.

It isn't the reply Billy expected. If anything, he thought the Tommy Oliver in this club would be behind those double doors. "Oh, he can't dance," he says, but his eyes are captivated by the wild gyrations of the center dancer, frantically working himself up to the delight of the customers.

His Speedo is black, his torso and arms are covered in sprawling black ink and glitter, and his curtain of wavy dark hair whirls around his head like a cyclone. It takes just a single flash of cheek and mouth for Billy's heart to leap into his throat. The features are lost behind the curtain of hair again and Billy's clutching the hard wooden back of a chair in his fists by the time Tommy throws his hair back and fully reveals his face.

His hips keep gyrating against the pole as one leg goes up the pole and then the other. Things are cloudy suddenly, and Billy's out of place, like he's looking at the scene through a fishbowl, or the Viewing Globe. Everything has skewed; the world has shifted off its axis. Tommy's soon hanging half upside-down on the pole, arms out stretched. His powerful thighs keep him aloft as he pulls filthy twenties out of grubby hands with his teeth. His dark eyes seem vacant and alive all at once, but Billy's certain that whatever Tommy's seeing isn't really there.

Stunned as Billy is by the revelation that _this _is the funny, forgetful Tommy he went to high school with, it isn't until the waitress touches his arm that reality comes crashing back down. Suddenly, the music is loud again, roaring in his ears, punctuated only by the jubilant cries of the customers in front of him as Tommy performs a trick on the pole. The lights are brighter, the strobe hurting his eyes, and the smell of sweat and sour beer assaults his nose.

"I'll have a vodka and tonic," Billy finally says, not daring to look back at the stage yet.

She's a wise woman and leaves him be, letting Billy seat himself by lowering into the nearest chair. His hand subconsciously slides over his wrist communicator, fearful of just what might be seen or heard through it.

Another cheering roar draws Billy's attention, and he looks up in time to find Tommy dangling dangerously, precariously, from the ceiling, which is littered with stage lights and railings. He's using them like monkey bars and the drop is probably fourteen feet. It's clear he's done this before, as the crowd encourages him, goading him on. Lacking the martial arts grace Tommy once had, he propels himself through the air. For a moment, Billy's certain he'll crash to the floor, but his fingers find purchase on one of the gleaming red lamps, sending him swinging.

They're rewarded with a yelp from overhead as the stage light sears Tommy's hand, and then he's leaping—to one of the other poles. He slides down but doesn't stop at the bottom, just oozes right onto the floor and once there, spreads out on his back.

Billy's on his feet, alarmed and concerned, but the patrons just put up a cheer. The two other dancers, who, until now, had continued dancing during Tommy's feat, bend and scoop Tommy up, one under each of his arms. Tommy's awake and crowing and waving, though Billy can't hear him over the crowd and the music.

As the dancers drag Tommy backstage, Billy gets up, sprinting for the double doors. Ignoring the 'Employes Only' sign, he slips in unimpeded and hurries down the corridor, hoping to intersect the stage.

It's more labyrinthine than he expected and it takes several sharp turns (and cleverly dodging one pole dancer for a few minutes), before Billy finds the entrance backstage. It's not a fancy place. There's one dressing room and it stinks of mildew and old cheese. Three long mirrors line the painted brick walls, and Tommy sits facing one of them, his face buried behind a curtain of hair as Billy watches him snort a line.

Tommy stares at himself in the mirror once he's done, holding his nose up high as though fearing something might drip out. Billy can see his face—pierced eyebrows, ears and all—and the reflected tattoos on his chest, the biggest of which clearly says 'whore' in lowercase letters, like there's not enough dignity there to capitalize any of it.

Tommy sees him reflected in the mirror a second later. He sniffs loudly, presses a silver painted nail to the side of his nose ring and swivels around on his barstool. "Didn't expect to see _you _here." He's smiling and his eyes are more than a little unfocused. "Did you think I didn't see you sitting off by yourself there earlier? You could've come down to the stage with the big boys."

Though Billy hasn't had time to think of how he expected Tommy to react to his arrival, he knows this isn't what he would have come up with. "What're you . . ." but it's a rare moment where words have escaped him. There have been times in his life where Billy has teleported to safety when he felt less frightened than now. It's hard not to grip Tommy's wrist and whisk them out of here.

"I'm Tommy," Tommy says, attempting, and failing, to get out of his chair. His grin broadens. "And, cute as you are, I don't really do . . . _private entertainment_."

Billy's skin is crawling, and, against his will, his eyes keep flickering down to the tattoos on Tommy's chest. The words there belie the words coming out of his mouth. Below 'whore' the letters spell out 'cocksucker' in only slightly smaller font.

"Who let you back here?" Tommy's looking at him a little closer now. "Shanna?" He rubs a hand over his chest, fingers pressing into the 'cocksucker' tattoo. The nails on this hand are green. "Or is this what you're after?" One of his eyebrows arches and his fingers trail down, tugging gently at his nipple rings.

It's only then Billy slots all the pieces into place. Tommy hasn't _seen _him yet. He's coked out of his mind, probably drunk given his slurred words, high on adrenaline and six years' distance and . . . who knew what else. "It's me," Billy says, stepping closer. "It's Billy."

Tommy's gaze lifts off Billy's collar, slowly trailing up to his face. When recognition hits, it isn't pretty, contorting Tommy's face first into a frown, then a sneer followed by confusion. "_Billy_?"

"What're you _doing _here, Tommy?"

The confusion passes quickly and Tommy turns away, folding up a small plastic bag and shoving it into a box that he promptly locks. "What does it fucking look like?"

Billy's never heard Tommy curse, and the words rock him almost more than the tattoos and piercings do. "You don't . . . you don't have to do this." The words feel wrong, but Billy's not sure anything would be right. It's impossible to think that all this time he's been wondering where Tommy disappeared to after losing his powers he's been _here_. "You . . . you should've come to us if you needed help."

"Help?" Tommy snorts. "I don't need _help_. I'm right where I belong." Picking up a kohl stick, Tommy starts to darken the lines around his eyes, but catches Billy's open-mouthed gap in the mirror again and throws the stick down. "You can leave, now, Billy."

"Are you insane? Do you have any idea how long I've been searching for you?"

Tommy doesn't turn around and refuses to meet Billy's eye in the mirror again. "Did you ever think I didn't _want _to be found?" Tommy gets to his feet, turning toward him. "I did my damage already."

"What're you talking about?" Billy's afraid of him. Not in the way he fears monsters or criminals, but in the heart-stopping fearful way he feels when confronted with vast, unsolvable equations. It's as though reality has sifted right through his fingertips. Looking at Tommy is like staring into a cracked mirror, where the reflection has distorted beyond recognition. How could this have happened to funny, affable Tommy? How could Zordon have not known? "I've been _worried_!"

"Well, I'm fine, and you can leave now." Tommy pushes him toward the door, but instantly draws his hand back, wincing.

It's the hand that gripped the stage light, and Billy realizes it's still red and tender. "You should put some salve on that," he starts.

"You should shut up." With his other hand, Tommy pushes him again. "Forget you came here. Forget you saw me. Forget . . . forget you ever even knew me."

Billy grips Tommy's arm the next time he shoves. He wishes Tommy weren't in a speedo stuffed full of twenties, but he can't stand this place anymore. Before Tommy's eyes can widen in rage, Billy slaps his other hand over his communicator, and they teleport out in a flash of color.

Unable to take Tommy to the Command Center like this, Billy teleports them to his house on the outskirts of what was once Angel Grove. He'll have to go back for his car tomorrow, but it's worth it to get them both out of that slum.

Tommy gasps at the teleportation, back arching, then jerks away from Billy as if scalded. His eyes are wild as they dart around the dimly lit living room.

"I'll get an ointment for your hand," Billy says, pulling away. He turns on a lamp and disappears into his half bathroom.

"Fuck you, Billy! Jesus. Where are we? What is this place?"

He's only gone a moment, but Tommy's already stalking around looking for the front door by the time he comes back. "Calm down," Billy says, but he's just watched Tommy snort a line of cocaine and knows it's not that easy. "Let me see your hand."

Tommy doesn't give it, so Billy grabs it, squeezing ointment out onto the burn.

Hissing, Tommy pulls his hand back. "That hurts!"

"I'm sorry, but it'll help." He sets the ointment aside. "This is my house, near Angel Grove. You're safe here. Just take a breath and let me help you."

"I don't _want _your help! I don't want anyone's help!"

It's like grasping at straws while sinking in quicksand. "Are you hungry?" Billy watches Tommy's nostrils flare. "I've got food. Let me at least cook you a meal." He's just got to buy enough time for the cocaine to wear off. How long would the affects last? Thirty minutes? An hour? "How about a bath? I've got quite a nice bathroom."

Tommy's clearly considering it, though he doesn't look happy about it. One of his fingertips goes into his mouth, teeth nipping at the skin. "They're gonna fucking kill me just disappearing on them."

"It's all right. I'll talk to your boss there and sort it out." Billy starts toward the kitchen. "What would you like to eat? Eggs? Sandwich? Or I could make spaghetti?"

"Fuck," Tommy says. His body wavers slightly and he's soon slumped down on Billy's couch.

Hurrying back, Billy finds he hasn't passed out; he's just exhausted. "Just rest. I'll be quick." Eggs are the fastest thing Billy can make, and he scrambles three in half the time it takes the toast to brown. He puts it all on a plate and brings it to Tommy out in the living room, along with a glass of orange juice.

Deciding not to stand there and watch Tommy eat, Billy goes and raids his closet for anything that would fit Tommy, and wracks his brain on what to do while he searches. Contacting the other Rangers just isn't possible. Only Kimberly knew Tommy, and there's no way she should see him like this. Neither Jason nor Zack would know what to do with him anymore than Billy does, and he suspects Jason's reaction to all of this would be to blame himself for all of it, and to such a degree that he couldn't help Tommy at all.

That leaves Trini, but last time he spoke to her, she was in Thailand heading the international peace conference there. He knows she might be able to give him some advice, but that's no help right now. Pulling a baggy pair of jeans and a loose fitting shirt out of his closet, Billy hurries back into the living room.

He's been gone no more than five minutes, but Tommy's already polished the plate clean and is now busy organizing the money that had been tucked in his waistband. He doesn't look up as Billy returns, intently orienting each bill the same direction. "I located some clothes that I think should fit you," Billy says, laying them on the empty seat beside Tommy. "I apologize that they're nothing fancy, but I have a real love-hate relationship with my wardrobe right now."

When Tommy finally looks at him, Billy's bowled over by the anger in his dark eyes. Tommy says nothing, just takes the clothes and nods, but the fury burns under the surface, almost tangible. It's frightening enough that Billy doesn't know what to say or do, fearful any wrong word will set Tommy off. There are so many unknown variables; Billy's drowning in the unfamiliar seas of self-doubt and uncertainty.

Billy sits, but they don't talk. Even after Tommy has all the bills neatly arranged by orientation and denomination, he remains silent. Tommy seems as incapable of brooding now as he did in high school, but he does a fairly decent facsimile, looking at Billy only to glower.

Billy tries to fill the silence. "You're better off out of that place."

"You're so smart, Billy," Tommy says, but the words aren't complimentary. "You think you know everything, but you don't—not anything important. You should've left me there." He runs a hand through his limp, wavy hair. "My boss is going to _kill _me and you're just sitting there, ignoring reality, pretending the last five, six years haven't happened."

It's such an absurd statement Billy has to hold his tongue before replying; if anyone has ignored the last few years, it's _Tommy_. "You're right," he says instead. "I've missed so much." Words have never been Billy's strong suit and despite his years of practice, he's not sure how to properly phrase things now. "What have you been up to?" He knows that isn't the right thing to say even as he says it, but it's better than he was doing before.

The cocaine has evidently started to wear off as Tommy's eyes just look dark now. He doesn't answer, just pulls the shirt Billy brought over his head, swallowing up his tattoos and sweat and glitter. "Use your imagination." Tommy stands up, hips first, and steps into the pants.

Billy averts his eyes, staring at his hands on his knees and his skin crawls at the thought of putting clothes on over all that filth. He expects Tommy to ask about the other Rangers; so much has changed that he couldn't possible know about.

He doesn't ask. He just folds his wad of cash up, stuffs it into his pocket and sits back down.

Tommy's eyes are dark and haunted and Billy finds he _is _using his imagination, filling in stories for how he came by those tattoos; he's not sure if the horrors he's mentally concocting are better or worse than reality. The thoughts of Tommy on his knees, beaten, empty-eyed and being abused, twist his stomach. Out of the club, Tommy looks sallow, like he doesn't eat enough and hardly sleeps. The truth is probably even more disturbing.

"Maybe you'll feel better in the morning?" Billy gets to his feet. "There's a guest room at the end of the hallway. It doesn't get used often, but the sheets are clean."

"Thanks."

For just that one moment, it Isounds/i like Tommy. Billy's a little shocked; he didn't realize how much Tommy didn't even _sound right_. He clings to hope. "I just want to help."

"I don't need it, okay?" Tommy gets back to his feet. "I know you mean well, but this—what you've just done—is going to get me into more trouble than you can imagine. Your 'help' is just the opposite. They're going to make my life hell when I get back."

"That's just it. You don't have to return there. I'll take care of your boss."

Tommy laughs, but it's cold and mirthless. "You really don't know anything. Not how the real world works." His dark eyes fix on Billy's. "Here's a reality check for you: not everything can be solved." He crosses past Billy. "I know you mean well. I know you've got this little superhero streak in there that wants to 'save' me. I _get it_, all right? It's just not what you think. I don't need to be saved. Go back to forgetting I ever existed."

Billy follows him. "I never forgot you existed. None of us did. There was a _war_. We were busy." The look Tommy gives him sends strange guilt rippling through Billy. There _was _a war, but Tommy went missing well before it. Finding Tommy has just never been a priority. It isn't even a priority now; Billy's only gone looking because of an off-handed comment Zordon made that piqued his curiosity. "No matter the reason, you don't belong in that club."

"You don't know that," Tommy says. "You knew me for what, a year? A few months? Back in high school. I'm not that _good_, dumb, naïve kid anymore. I'm not sure I ever was." Tommy's taller, and he uses that height to his advantage, trying to intimidate Billy.

It doesn't work. Billy's been in charge for too long; he's taken out too many putties and monsters to be intimidated by a human, especially someone like Tommy. "At least tell your parents where you've been."

"Ha. _They're_ not my parents. They're some people who took me in thinking they would get a son; a sweet little boy. They're glad to be rid of me."

"That's not true," Billy calls, but Tommy's past him now, heading down the hallway, searching for the guest room. He should be glad Tommy's not heading for the front door, but he's not. He could chase Tommy down the street; once the guest door closes behind him, the conversation ends.

"Tommy," he says, putting a hand on the handle, but not daring to turn it. Of course there's no answer. At length, after considering and rejecting several other things, Billy finally says, "I'm just down the hall, if you need anything."

He waits five minutes, but Tommy never acknowledges him.

In the morning, Tommy's gone.

Part of him knew it was within the realm of possibility that Tommy would slip out in the middle of the night, but it still surprises Billy more than he expected. Deep inside he feels Tommy wants help. That he didn't stay unsettles him, and stacks of variables shift from one column to another inside Billy's head.

A cursory glance around his house tells him Tommy left with only the clothing Billy loaned him. Not even the shoes by the front door have been taken. The juxtaposition is strange; it means that despite the drugs and the sex and dancing, Tommy's drawn a line at theft.

It's the most positive thing Billy's discovered yet. Even though Tommy's gone, he's learned something vital: Tommy still has lines he won't cross. It's hard not to go after him immediately, but his car is sitting in a rundown parking lot in Devil's Cove. Being expected at work by nine doesn't help either, and complicates getting to work.

He wants to call Trini, tell her about Tommy and ask her advice, but there's no time. Instead, he gets dressed and puts in a call to Adam, asking for a ride.

Adam doesn't know Tommy. Of the remaining Rangers, only he and Kimberley were there for Tommy's stint as the Green Ranger, though the others have learned about it. He doesn't want to think about what opinion Adam would form of Tommy if he met him now, like this, so he stays quiet.

The silence is unusual enough for Adam to comment on it, but not wanting to lie to his friend, Billy just says, "I'm not ready to talk about it right now."

The furrows in Adam's brow speak of his concern, but he knows Billy and doesn't press the issue.

At work, the company's servers go down. During the hours spent tinkering with electronics, Billy loses himself in getting everything back online and doesn't think about Tommy once. He passes up an invitation to go drinking with co-workers that evening, lacking a car, and instead pores over the bus schedule until he's memorized the best route back to Devil's Cove.

It's just after ten by the time he finally arrives, and he's weary from work and travel via the subpar California public transport system. Miraculously, he finds his car where he left it, and still in one piece. There's a parking violation tucked under the windshield wiper, which he folds into his wallet.

The engine turns over when he inserts the key and the cassette in the deck soon churns out the Mozart that's been on endless repeat for the past month. Billy's hands grip the steering wheel, but his eyes stare through the darkness in the direction of the Cat's Beard.

The last three hours have been so focused on getting back to his car and fretting about whether it would even be there that Billy's a little stunned by the revelation that Tommy's probably _right there_. If he came back, then he's just down that stairwell. It's Friday; he's probably even performing.

To his shame, Billy's not sure until that moment that he'd planned to go after Tommy again. Even sitting there, he's still not sure. There's no doubt in his mind that it'd be easier to do as Tommy asked; to just forget about him completely. It'd be much easier to go back to the way things were before he found Tommy. It's not that any of them ever forgot Tommy; they've just all got lives. Billy's got one. He should be home now, working on it.

Instead, he gets out of his car and locks it. He's dressed for work now and knows he'll draw even more looks down in that club, but he can't leave. Tommy's a Ranger, and a friend. There's no way Billy can leave him in that place, and the knowledge that if Billy doesn't help Tommy no one else will hangs heavy on his shoulders.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two:**

"Where do you think _you're _going?" the wall of a man blocking the entrance to the stairwell asks. His eyes are as dark and beady as the night before, but sharper now.

Standing there in a suit and tie, Billy feels even more out of place than before, and much less confident that he'll get admittance than he did the night previous. "I'm looking for Tommy Oliver?"

"Course you are." The man doesn't move aside, but he crosses his arms. "See, what I don't get is how you two got outta here last night without going by me."

Billy thinks on his toes. "I'm very stealthy. I've trained as a ninja."

The man raises one dark, skeptical eyebrow.

"I have!"

"Well, it don't really matter. What does matter, though, is Mack. He doesn't take too kindly to strange men coming in and absconding with his dancers."

Billy's too impressed by the unexpected vocabulary to reply immediately. Once his brain replays the sentence over again, he blinks. "Mack?"

"Yeah. He's the owner of this place. Don't you know that?" He shakes his head, as if disgusted. "Fool, what are you even _doing _here? You think that's appropriate club wear? Look like you belong on Wall Street, not Devil's Cove."

"If I had actually absconded with Tommy, do you honestly believe he would have come back _here_?" Billy blinks. "He _is _here, isn't he?"

The man nodded his thick neck slowly. "Was last I saw."

"Therefore, we didn't abscond. He really is just a friend. May I go down and see him now?"

"You go to stores and talk to your friends when they're playing clerk? Tommy's at _work _here. You want to _talk _to your _friend_, you see him after work or you pay the going rate."

It's strange, but Billy's starting to like this guy. "Oh? And what's the going rate?"

"Hell if I know; I'm not interested in nasty-ass crack whores. He's a favorite of Mack's, though. You'd have to discuss the price with him."

Billy's mentally counting the cash in his wallet and wondering if Mack takes credit cards. "Then, may I please go down so I can talk to Mack?"

The little beady eyes narrow to slits, but it's clear quickly that the man has run out of reasons to bar Billy's access. "You go by me when you leave, you understand? I'm the one gets in trouble you sneak past me. That's not fair."

"All right," Billy says, taking a deep breath. "I promise there will be no absconding tonight."

Though he clearly doesn't like it, the man steps aside, revealing the stairwell. Billy doesn't thank him, just hurries down into the club. It's busier than last night. There are eight male dancers on stage, one of which is Tommy. He looks even more wrecked than before, and Billy wonders how long he's been on his feet today.

His legs carry him to the bar, where he pulls off his suit coat and finds an open seat. It's so hard to watch Tommy like this, but Billy can't seem to take his eyes off him. He really is beautiful, despite the tattoos and setting.

It takes fifteen minutes for the bartender to make his way over, and his eyes when he takes in Billy in his work suit are more than a little uncertain. "Get you a drink?"

The last thing Billy wants in his system is alcohol, but he orders another vodka and tonic, just to get the man to go away. He nurses it for over an hour, until the ice has melted the concoction down to a bland, flat mess. On stage, all of the dancers cycle on and off through different routines, save for Tommy, who never leaves. Billy realizes what he'd first mistaken to be shiny oil rubbed all over Tommy's torso is actually perspiration. His hair looks weighted down with hair product too, but Billy knows it's just more sweat. It quite ruins the illusion of beauty.

A while after that, a man in a black turtleneck sweater and designer jeans approaches him. It's almost sweltering in the club, so the unusual attire alone draws Billy's eye. Billy's sweating in his dress shirt and he's already rolled up his shirt sleeves and loosened his tie, but the man is cool and collected.

"Mack Simms," the man says in an oily smooth voice. "It would seem we have something to discuss.."

Billy's eyes flicker from Tommy on the stage to Mack. The man isn't half as seedy as Billy had anticipated. He appears to be in his late-forties, and his hair is impeccably cut, dyed and styled. His expensive clothes are a shocking contrast to the rundown club he seems so proud of owning. Billy's not used to being a leader outside of his Ranger suit, and it takes a moment to slide to his feet and pull his jacket back on. "Yes, actually," he finally says, "about Tommy Oliver."

Mack's tilts his head as if surprised, but it's clear he knows exactly what he's doing. "Perhaps you'd like to step into my back office then?"

Mack's office is small, but clean and air conditioned. There's a small fountain in one corner with floating bells that chime when they bounce into each other. Behind his desk hangs a large portrait of Alexander III of Macedon that's been retouched to bear a strong resemblance to Mack.

"Have a seat," Mack says, sliding into the plush leather armchair across the desk. "Cigarette?"

"No, thank you. Carcinogens kill." Billy tries not to cringe as Mack lights up in the tiny office anyway.

"Reggie says you slipped by him last night with Tommy in tow. Given Reggie's track record, I find that quite impressive." Mack takes a long drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke across the desk. "You must have been quite pleased with yourself."

The man positively drips charisma, but already Billy can't stand him. "To the contrary. My only intent was to engage in a moderate conversation."

"Conversation? Right, which is why you came to his work place and took him out of the club in the middle of his shift without informing anyone." Mack's smile fades. "Do you have any idea how many people come to the Cat's Beard to watch Tommy perform? I lost a lot of money last night because of your little stunt. He has quite a following."

"I apologize for any inconvenience. I was unaware of his celebrity."

"Of course you were! I've never seen you before in my life. Tommy certainly hasn't ever mentioned you. Some _friend _you are!" He leans forward. "Now listen up. This is _my _club. If you want access to Tommy, you play by my rules, same as everyone else, understand? He's a hot commodity and doesn't see just anyone. If he's willing, you can see him by the hour, _at _the club, _after _his shift is over."

"Sounds reasonable," Billy lies. Thoughts of asking to buy Tommy out of whatever horrible contract he's mixed up in flutter out of Billy's mind. "I don't suppose you take credit card?"

Mack's smile returns. "Oh, I'm sure we can work something out." He confidently leans back in his chair, fingers steepling as he surveys Billy.

In the end, they decide on two-hundred dollars for one hour. It's ludicrous as far as Billy is concerned, but Mack refuses to believe that Billy intends to actually _just talk_. After payment goes through, he still has to wait until two in the morning for the club to close and Tommy to get off stage. As far as he's aware, no one ever asks Tommy if _he _wants this meeting and Billy tries not to think how many times this sort of arrangement has been thrust upon him before.

Eventually he's led to another room to wait for Tommy, and his sense of direction tells him it's not very near the dressing room he saw Tommy in last time. The room isn't big, and it's made decidedly smaller by the large bed dominating most of it. Billy's tired and the bed looks deceptively inviting, but knowing what horrors the bed must have seen, he sits on the lone rickety chair in the corner instead and carefully makes sure not to touch anything.

When Tommy finally arrives, he looks like the walking dead and Billy regrets keeping him up any longer than necessary. Billy's own weariness slides away upon seeing what true exhaustion looks like, and he gets to his feet almost instantly, wanting to touch Tommy and provide comfort, but not daring to.

Upon seeing him, Tommy's bloodshot eyes widen. "Haven't you caused enough damage already!"

Billy shouldn't have come without first talking to Trini or further researching the situation. He's at a complete loss for what to say or do, and helplessness gnaws at him. "Just sit down. You look dead on your feet. Mack won't get mad this time; I paid him. I could only afford an hour, but I paid him."

Tommy fixes him with a hard, long stare. After several seconds, his gaze moves to the bed and, unmindful of its obvious filth, he mechanically sits down. "What do you want?"

Relieved, Billy sits back down on the rickety chair. "Ideally, I like you to stop working in this club and come back to Angel Grove with me."

Tommy snorts and flops back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "How many times do I have to say 'Leave me alone'? Should I learn it in another language?"

Billy watches Tommy's chest rise and fall; he's still breathing hard from his last dance. "Regardless of whether or not you agree, I'm not going to stop asking until you leave this place."

"Don't you _get it_?" Tommy rolls onto his side, glaring now. "I _belong _here. This is what I am now." His hand spreads out over his tattooed chest, fingers digging into skin. "There's nothing else. The rest of the world doesn't exist for me anymore. I'm lucky to have this much."

Tommy looks so much worse than yesterday, and Billy wonders what punishment Mack put him through for disappearing last night. Even from across the room he can smell sweat and alcohol—and cigarette smoke. "Who told you that?"

"Don't need someone to tell me." Tommy rolls onto his back again, stretching out on the old mattress. "Feel it in every bone in my body. I'm worthless. I'm less than worthless—I'm dangerous."

For the first time, Billy wonders if Tommy's done something. "Did you . . . Tommy, did you hurt somebody?"

Tommy's eyes grow lidded and his words seem to come more difficultly. "No. Not like you're thinking. Not _yet_. But I _could_."

"You can't condemn on premeditation alone. Where does this sense of worthlessness come from? You were never worthless before. You _helped _us. You were a Ranger; part of a team."

Tommy laughs, short and sharp. "I did far more damage to the Power Rangers than I ever did any good. I was only ever a burden to you all."

"That wasn't your fault."

"Ha, but you don't deny it, do you?"

"You were under Rita's spell, Tommy. None of us ever blamed you for anything she made you do."

"But she picked _me_, Billy. She didn't pick you or Jason or . . . or even Bulk or Skull. She picked _me_. I was the corruptible one. I was the _evil _one." Groaning, Tommy flings an arm over his eyes. "And sometimes I miss it. The feeling of power and belonging; being useful to an empress; being special—Rita's chosen one. I was, and always will be, a liability."

"Rita's gone now, Tommy," Billy says. "She was destroyed in the war." Despite knowing what sort of germs must be lurking on the bedspread, he wants to move closer and sit by Tommy, but he knows Tommy wouldn't like it. "And she could have picked any of us. She's put spells on me before. I know what that's like to be under her control. I know how freeing it can feel having your inhibitions removed; to feel that dark power, but . . . it's no fun to be someone else's pawn or to be turned against your friends. Your hatred of being used shows how much better than that you are. We're Rangers; we're all better than that."

Suddenly, Tommy sits up. "Enough. I don't want to talk about it anymore." His eyes focus on Billy, almost as if noticing him for the first time. One of his eyebrows raises and he leans forward on his hand, legs parting slightly. "So, Mack says he got two-hundred dollars out of you. What'll it be?" His gaze is unmistakable and his mouth curls up in a smirk. "I don't mean to rush, but you _have _only paid for an hour."

The sudden change in Tommy is almost palpable, and it sends goosepimples running up Billy's arm to see him like this. Even if he's mocking, that Tommy thinks Billy could ever have come to him like this for anything sexual churns his stomach. He's about to protest, when it occurs to him that deriding what Tommy does for a living is only going to increase his self-hate. "I told you," he says instead, "I just came here to talk to you."

"Then you're wasting my time. And yours." With considerable effort, Tommy gets back to his feet, swaying slightly. "Mack has a very detailed revenue report of all the income he holds me responsible for losing last night. I spent all my earnings last night on cab fare home from your place at three in the morning—without first giving him his percentage. He says dozens of regular customers left when I didn't show up for my evening performances. I'm expected to pay all of that out of pocket. This," he gestures to the room, "doesn't count. I have to work overtime and do . . . do whatever Mack says until he's satisfied."

Billy wants to scream, and that's not a reaction he ever has. He wants to shake Tommy and make him see how messed up all of this is; how the very words coming out of his mouth should be his clue to leave this place. He stays quiet, though it takes several deep breaths. He hasn't got the tools he needs to solve this yet. He's going to have to call Trini when he gets home; maybe even Jason. This is more than he can handle alone, but not something he feels ready to foist on the other Rangers. "I'm not going to give up on you," he says. "I'm going to come here every day if I have to, until I can make you realize that not only is it okay to leave, but it's the right thing to do."

"And I'm telling you not to waste your time. Or mine."

"Just . . . answer one question: are you happy here?"

Tommy stares at him. "No, but I hardly deserve to be."

Billy leaves not much later; Tommy's shut down he's wasting time that Tommy would better use sleeping. He vows to come back tomorrow, after arming himself with more information, and hopes that Tommy is in a better head space then.

The still, cold night greets him when he leaves the club, the first real onset of autumn, and finds Reggie still standing there, guarding the entrance.

"Do you ever sleep?" Billy asks, turning up the collar on his coat.

Reggie's beady little eyes register surprise seeing Billy, but he just shrugs his massive shoulders. "Time for that when I'm dead."

Nodding sadly, Billy says, "See you tomorrow," and starts the trek back to his car.

* * *

It's after four in the morning by the time Billy makes it back to Angel Grove, but that suits him just fine. It's six in the evening in Thailand, and that means Trini will be awake—and hopefully not busy with the motivational peace talks she's still doing. He starts a pot of coffee while the phone rings and, at the familiar sound of her voice, sinks into the couch in his living room.

Billy is not a social creature, and Trini knows immediately that it's four in the morning in Angel Grove and Something Is Up.

"It's about Tommy," he says.

There's a space of silence before, uncertainly, Trini asks, "Ranger Tommy?"

"Affirmative." Relaxing, Billy pulls his tie off and throws it across the room. "He's landed himself in a most unexpected predicament. His disappearance after Rita's green candle was extinguished was evidently self-induced by burgeoning feelings of worthlessness that, left untreated for years, have metastasized into an extremely unstable, volatile personality with no regard for self-preservation. Trini, I've seen him performing at a club twice now, using benzoylmethylecgonine both times, along with copious ethanol consumption. Undoubtedly there's additional substance abuse I'm unaware of thus far. He's circumvented all my attempts to retrieve him from the club, and I-"

"Calm down, Billy," Trini says. "Start from the beginning."

Taking a deep breath, Billy does. It's easier from the beginning, though he rambles on and knows his phone bill is going to be astronomical. When he's finished bringing Trini up to date, there's a long silence on the other end. "Trini?"

"I'm still here. You know, I am not a professional counselor in any capacity. Any advice I can offer is with a grain of salt. You should really talk to someone certified."

"Acknowledged, but I am at a loss for where else to turn. It isn't as though I can contact the law. Almost anyone would attempt to incarcerate him, at this point, and any therapist would need to know about his Ranger past, which Zordon strictly forbids."

"You haven't mentioned Zordon's thoughts on all this. Does he have any advice?"

Feeling the start of a caffeine headache, Billy pushes himself off his couch and goes to pour himself a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Thinking about Zordon is going to require more of his concentration that he's ready for. "Zordon is uninformed, as of yet. For now, I'd like it to remain that way. My experience with his involvement in post-Ranger affairs leads me to conclude he'll be of little assistance in this matter. Potentially, he'll even have a negative impact on the situation."

"You still don't trust him because of the way he handled the war?"

"Among other reasons. Many other reasons." Billy shakes his head, carrying his coffee back to his couch. "Suffice to say, consider Zordon eliminated from the equation. Focus on Tommy. What method do you propose would be most effective in reaching him?"

"Persistence," Trini says. "You have got to earn his trust again. His involvement with the Rangers lasted less than one year, Billy. It has been six since then, and you two were never close."

"We were friends."

"I know, but it was not a close friendship." Trini hesitates. "I suppose involving Kim wouldn't help? She did know him best of all of us."

"I've considered and rejected the notion. Tommy's so entrenched in this lifestyle that I think reintroducing them at this point would only be detrimental to both. I mentioned the tattoos?"

"You did." She pauses for thought. "Given your limitations, I would just continue to go and see him. Every night, if possible. Show him you are serious. Try to befriend him. It's like starting new, Billy. You're a stranger to him. Remind him of the good in his past, but don't rely on only that. If you can, get him out of the club on his own terms. Offer to buy him dinner or groceries. Tell him you can't afford the private chats and go to his home. He has surrounded himself with this life. He needs to see normal things again, but it has to be gradual."

The idea of spending multiple nights at the Cat's Beard hangs over Billy like an ominous, evil cloud. "For all my intelligence, it seems I've found an equation I can't easily solve."

"You always did like a challenge."

"Challenges aren't nearly so frightening as the unknown. What if I don't succeed? What if I lose him altogether?"

"You know how dangerous thinking like that can be. Self-fulfilling prophecy, right? You _will _succeed, and one day Tommy will thank you for it."

Billy's heart is heavy, and he sets down his coffee mug. "All the same, I'd rather not be attempting this feat on my own."

"I wish I were there, too."

He falls asleep there on his couch and dreams of swimming upstream toward Tommy, but never getting any closer. When he wakes, he finds the cordless still cradled in his hand, his face pressed against the leather couch cushion, warmed now by the sun. Despite his grogginess, Billy goes to shower and make himself breakfast. He has a lot of research to do on Tommy's past and he wants to be out the door headed for Devil's Cove by seven.

He goes through his closet twice, trying to find anything remotely appropriate to wear to a club. He finally settles on a plain t-shirt that's a little too small and jeans. It's far from trendy, but he knows it won't stand out in the way his suits have.

His hands are on his car keys when his phone rings. It's Rocky, asking where he is.

"Oh, I forgot all about your party!" Billy doesn't particularly want to go in the first place, but guilt nags him for having to tell Rocky this way instead of canceling properly. "Something's come up. I'm really sorry."

"It's all right," Rocky says, and sounds as if he genuinely means it. "I hope it's nothing serious."

"It's . . . well, it's complicated." He's not sure why he feels compelled to elaborate, but he does. "An old friend is in trouble. I'm going to try to help him, though it may not be successful."

"That sounds a lot more important than my party. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No. Just . . . just stay safe and enjoy yourself tonight."

"You sound really down. You're sure I can't help?"

Billy smiles at Rocky's intuitive perceptiveness. "I guess I'm a little stressed and didn't sleep well, that's all. Don't worry about it, all right? This issue with my friend is a . . . very personal matter, and I don't want it to get out."

"I understand. Still, if there's anything I can do to help . . ."

"I appreciate it. Right now, what will help me best is to just keep quiet about this. I don't want to worry any of the others unnecessarily."

"What'll I tell 'em about the party, though? I mean, why you can't make it."

"Tell them . . ." Billy doesn't want to lie, or to make Rocky lie for him. "Just tell them I'm helping an old friend. It's . . . it's really not someone any of you know, anyway." Except, of course, for Kim.

"Well, all right, Billy. You'll let me know if anything changes, though, and I can help, right?"

"I will. Enjoy your party, Rocky."

"Thanks. Good luck with your friend!"

"Thanks." Billy hangs up the phone, but stares at it for a few seconds in thought.

Rocky's too simple for Billy sometimes, but his perpetual positive attitude is often contagious. He's also one of the least judgmental people Billy has ever met. He's not sure what to do with that knowledge just yet, but it seems important, and he files it away in case it becomes useful in the future.

When he sees Reggie outside the Cat's Beard later that evening, the huge man just looks him over once and solemnly steps aside. Billy wouldn't testify to it, but he's pretty sure he sees a look of disappointment in Reggie's eyes as he passes.

Rocky's party would have annoyed Billy on multiple levels, but it would not have touched on how uncomfortable the Cat's Beard makes him feel.

It's Saturday night, and the club is as full as Billy has ever seen it. Tommy's on stage, sweaty and glassy eyed, gyrating wildly to the throng of patrons at the foot of the stage. All the stools at the bar are filled, as are most of the tables. Though Trini's words echo in his head, Billy wishes he hadn't come. Tommy needs him, but he's not sure he's strong enough to do this alone. Calling Tommy's family would be easier. Bringing the law down on this den of iniquity might even be better.

It's a catcall that brings Billy out of his reverie, and his gaze is drawn toward the stage again, in time to watch Tommy stagger backward from one of his dance moves, unbalanced by the warring concoction of drugs in his system. He recovers after a moment, and his fans give another cheer. One hand snakes up and brazenly cups Tommy's Speedo before Tommy, unresponsive, returns to his dance.

"Get you a drink?"

Billy nearly jumps at the voice so close to him. He turns to find a waitress at his elbow and remembers her from the night before. She's passing much better tonight and doesn't look nearly as tired. "Uhh, I'm all right just now, thanks."

Her gaze strays off him toward the stage, and back. "Guess Tommy's gained himself another admirer?"

"Huh?" Billy's eyes are riveted on the men at the foot of the stage, unsettled by their drunken bravado, but her words draw him back. "What? No. I mean, it's not like that. Tommy's . . . Tommy's an old friend of mine." Feeling suddenly self-conscious, Billy buries his hands in his jean pockets.

"He's attractive, talented and gets a lot of admirers. You shouldn't be ashamed of it."

She seems melancholy, and something about her makes Billy reconsider his thoughts on the club. "What's your name?"

She blinks, surprised. "Cynthia. Cindy."

"I'm Billy," he says. "Have you worked here long?"

Cindy shrugs. "About two years. Why?"

Billy nods his head toward the stage. "Has he always been like this?"

"Like what? A dancer?"

Billy nods. "And a cocaine user and heavy alcohol consumer?"

"I suppose so. He was already popular when I first started coming here. That was almost three years ago, mind. Didn't get the job until later." She tucks a limp curl behind her ear. "Maybe he wasn't quite so crazy. Didn't have all his tattoos, then, either."

"Oh?"

"He had some of them, but I remember when he showed up with . . . with the 'cocksucker' one. Mack was furious at first, you know. I don't think Tommy cared, but Mack did. It wasn't until the regulars saw it that he changed his mind."

"Why is that?"

"Oh, because _they _love it. I think they get off on Tommy's." She looks over at Billy, her eyes a little keener. "You really _are _his friend, aren't you?"

"Affirmative. That is, yes. We went to high school together." Billy rocks back on his heels. "I could have saved him from this if I'd only known sooner."

"Tommy's got a lot of demons, but he's . . . he's not a bad guy. We're not close, but I know he's helped a couple of the other servers and dancers."

That's news, and Billy perks up. "Helped? How?"

A call for drinks comes in the distance, and Cindy turns toward it with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry Billy, I've got to get back to work. You sure you don't want a drink?"

"I'm all right, thanks. Another time?"

She nods and hurries off.

Almost instantly, another waitress approaches him. Her face is severe and mirthless.

"Oh, sorry," Billy says, "I uh, I don't want anything to drink."

She's unamused. "Not what I came over here for." She thumbs over her shoulder, toward the throng of enthusiastic men at the foot of the stage. "The Tommy Brigade wants you to come join them. Guess they wanna talk to ya."

"Oh." She leaves before Billy can ask any more questions, so he stares at the men there. One finally catches his eye and does a jerking motion with his head, coaxing Billy over.

Uncertainly, Billy picks his way through the tables. Tommy's still on stage, but he's moved to a different pole now. It's a little easier for Billy to approach the stage when Tommy's not right in front of him.

When he's close enough, the man with whom he'd made eye contact with breaks away from the rest of the crowd, slings an arm over Billy's shoulder and half-drags him the rest of the way. "So, I hear you've become a regular for Tommy."

"Twice is considered regular?"

"That's twice more than the majority of us!" He gestures to the rest of the admirers. "Though not for lack of trying." Once they're close enough, he releases Billy, twisting to study him. "Let me look at you." He shakes his greasy head. "T-shirt and glasses! What kind of type is that?"

"Pardon me?"

"You're new here, aren't you? You don't know this, but some of these guys have been here years, trying to get that little cocksucker to live up to his name. You come in one night and score twice in two days? We want to know your secret."

Having overheard, another man leans back. "And your stories! I hear he's the best fuck this side of town. Wild, like a stallion, but totally submissive once you're giving it to him." The man makes a very graphic visual with his hips. "Sure would like to get my fingers in that hair, give it a good, hard pull." He grins almost viciously.

Any well-being remaining in Billy flies out the window at those words. He has to clench his fists to keep his composure. On stage, Tommy's powerful legs holding him aloft as he bends backward down the pole and spins. "You'll . . . you'll just have to talk to Mack. I can't say why Tommy agreed to uh, see me."

"Ignore Tony. Doesn't matter why he agreed," the first man says. "I just want to know how he was! Are the rumors true?"

"Do the tattoos go all the way down?" Tony calls.

"We want details, man!"

Billy feels sick, and the sensation is compounded when Tommy gets a brief rational gleam in his eyes and focuses his gaze all the way across the room on Billy. It rivets him to the spot.

"Hey, he's looking at you!"

"Probably looking forward to tonight!" Tony flings an arm around Billy's shoulder, buddies up nice, and waves extravagantly at Tommy. "Maybe your luck'll rub off on me. You into threesomes?"

Disgusted, Billy shoves the man off, but Tommy's already gone back to his dancing. He disappears a short while later, to much jeering, and when he reappears at the top of a new number, Billy can tell he's taken the brief break to coke himself up even more.

"Hey, where you going?" Tony calls as Billy pushes to his feet.

How he'd ever let himself sit amongst the Tommy Brigade, he isn't sure. "Home," he says. He can't give a better excuse than that. He can't even look at Tommy anymore. He just has to get out of this club. Saturday nights are too busy. He's no good to anyone.

"Leave the stove on?" Reggie calls as Billy emerges from the stairs.

"If only that were all," Billy mutters as he passes.

Reggie makes a sad clicking noise in the back of his throat as he watches Billy go. "You play with fire, you gonna get burned."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three:

Somehow, Sunday is just as busy as Saturday, and the claustrophobia Billy felt setting in the night before manifests again. He can't get anywhere near Tommy. After his failure Saturday night, he decides to wait outside until the crowd has thinned before trying again. He knows Tommy has seen him, but when he presses for audience, he's denied.

Even when he offers more money Mack refuses him to his face.

It isn't until one of the bouncers physically drags Billy up the stairs that he accepts defeat. Mack follows him slowly, smoking nonchalantly as he does.

Outside, Mack looks around the dingy alleyway before settling his gaze on Billy. "I recommend tomorrow night that you rein your temper in. I don't have to let Reggie let you in at all, you know."

On Monday, Billy has to work. This time, it isn't only Adam who notices how distracted he is, though Adam is the only co-worker who cares enough to comment.

"Hey, I'm really starting to worry about you," he says during their lunch break.

Billy hasn't left his cubicle, eager to work through lunch so he can leave early. "I've just got a lot on my mind lately."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"No." Billy doesn't want to lie, but he _really _doesn't want to involve Adam if he doesn't have to. He especially doesn't want to talk about it at work. "I'm just unsettled lately, that's all. Don't worry about it."

"Well, you know I'm here for you if you need help with anything."

Billy smiles and finally looks away from his computer. "Thanks, Adam. I really do appreciate that."

The club is much quieter than the night before, and Tommy isn't on stage half as much as he has been the last few times Billy has seen him. He hopes this means he's paid his debt to Mack, but something tells him that's not the case.

"Hey, handsome."

Billy's surprised to see Cindy there, leaning against a chair. "Er, hi."

"Get you a drink?"

When the club isn't busy, it feels rude not to order something. Billy squints. "Maybe a glass of wine? Is it too much to hope for a Riesling?"

"I'm afraid it's Chardonnay or Merlot."

Billy sighs. "Chardonnay, then."

She sits down when she brings it to him, setting the glass on the table between them. "Are you some kind of cop?"

Billy laughs, and is a little surprised he can do so in this place. "What makes you say that?"

"Your arms are kind of ridiculous."

Self-conscious suddenly, Billy crosses his arms. His choice of clothing for tonight is one of his workout tank tops and jeans, and he's wishing now he'd brought a flannel to wear over it. "I'm not a cop."

"We get cops in here sometimes, you know."

"I'm really not a cop."

Cindy glances over her shoulder, but no one needs her. Her eyes dart over to the dancers on stage, lingering briefly on Tommy. "I don't think he wants to be saved."

"I disagree."

"Course you do. Wouldn't be here if you didn't, would you?" She pillows her cheek on her hand and tilts her head. "Still, might be a waste of your time."

Billy chooses to ignore that. "The other night, you said Tommy's helped some of the other dancers? What did you mean?"

"Oh." She shrugs. "It doesn't happen often, but once in a while, if someone is giving one of us a hard time, Tommy'll come to the defense. He's a pretty good fighter when he's sober enough. He's hilarious when he's not. Helps give him a pretty good reputation, though. Probably the only reason Mack allows it. All those guys you saw here the other night enjoy their twisted little fantasies about dominating a big bad boy like Tommy. They can't believe a geekoid like you is tapping him."

"I'm not interested in Tommy like that."

"I know." She tilts her head, thoughtful. "But nothing you say is going to convince any of the rest of them."

Uncomfortable, Billy says, "Do you ever talk to him?"

"Who, Tommy?" She shakes her head. "Not often. He's a dancer; I'm a waitress." She grins. "We run in different circles."

"Don't you bring him food or drinks or anything?"

"What, you think this place serves food?" She laughs. "I can't get him a message, if that's what you're asking. You'd do better throwing a shoe on stage with a note in it." She lifts her head. "Not that that'll work either." Twisting, she waves to the dancers on stage.

A few of them look at her, but none wave back. Tommy ignores them completely.

"I've got to talk to him again," Billy says. "He's got to know he doesn't belong here."

"From what I know of him, Tommy's here because it's where he thinks he belongs." She sits up. "I've got to get back to work. Just . . . be careful, Billy. Tommy's something of a permanent fixture in this place. It may not look like much, but it's a job. Besides, he brings in a lot of customers. Even if Tommy wants to leave, Mack isn't going to let go of him lightly."

She leaves Billy to his wine and contemplations, and he finds himself turning over the words in his head. It _is _a job. For all the cocaine, alcohol and prostitution, Tommy is holding a steady job as an exotic dancer. The thought still makes something scream inside Billy's mind, but it means something, too. He isn't walking the streets, having anonymous sex with anyone who can get him drugs. He hasn't resorted to stealing to fund his drug habit. It doesn't look like he's too far from that, but there's still something of Tommy left, clinging to normality. Billy just hopes it's not too late to restore it.

On Tuesday, he's stuck in a traffic jam on the 405 Freeway when his communicator chimes. He stares at the silver band on his wrist in surprise. Since the war, things have been quiet, so it's been quite a while since Zordon has summoned him. Knowing that this means it must be about his reconnection with Tommy, he takes a deep breath and answers.

"Billy here."

"Ai-yi-yi-yi-yi!" Alpha cries through the tinny receiver. "Billy, you've got to get to the Command Center immediately!"

Ahead of Billy, traffic moves forward an inch. He's never been more grateful to be trapped on the freeway. "I'm stuck in traffic right now, Alpha. It might be awhile before I can make it."

"But Billy, this is an emergency!"

Not eager to let Zordon's whims pull him away from helping Tommy, Billy's about to say he'll be there as soon as the traffic clears up when a shadow falls over his car. Brow furrowing, Billy cranes his neck to peer out his windshield at the cloudless sky. To the blaring honks of car horns, Billy watches as the foot of a massive monster crashes down on cars only meters away from him.

"I'm on my way!" Suddenly comfortable with abandoning his car on the freeway, Billy teleports out.

All of the other Rangers are already at the Command Center, watching the action unfolding on the viewing globe.

"Oh, Billy," Kimberly says, turning toward him, "I'm glad you're safe. When Alpha said you were on the freeway the monster's attacking, we got really worried."

"I'm all right," he says, stepping forward to watch the havoc being wrecked on screen. "Though my car may not be." Turning away from the viewing globe, he approaches Alpha. "What's going on? Where did this monster come from?"

It isn't Alpha who replies. "It is worse than I feared, Rangers."

Gritting his teeth, Billy finally looks up at Zordon. "There are people on that freeway being killed right now. Spare us the details and tell us how to defeat it."

"I believe that this monster marks the return of our old enemy, Master Vile."

"Master Vile?" Aisha says, glancing to Adam. "Isn't that Rita's father?"

"That is correct. My extrasolar scanners say an alien spacecraft entered our solar system quite recently. Telemetry indicates that vessel was Master Vile's Space Skull."

Crossing his arms, Rocky says, "I take it he's not too happy about what happened to his kids."

"That is correct, Rocky. Master Vile is undoubtedly seeking revenge for our conquest over his children, Rita Repulsa and Rito Revolto."

"You guys," Kimberly says, eyes still on the viewing globe, "we can't wait much longer. He just kicked an overpass to pieces."

"This is _so _not what Angel Grove needs!" Adam's eyes, burning darkly, are locked on the viewing globe as well. "People've finally started rebuilding!"

Billy understands their anxiety, but he remains calm. "We'll have to draw him out of the city as soon as we can. Vile may just be testing the waters; we've got to show him Earth is still defended." Turning back to Alpha, he says, "Keep us apprised of any weaknesses you may discover."

"Will do, Billy. Good luck!"

"It's been a while, guys," Billy says, checking to make sure the other Rangers are ready. "Let's do this." Stepping back, he calls it. "It's Morphin' Time!"

"Black Ranger Power!"

"Pink Ranger Power!"

"Blue Ranger Power!"

"Yellow Ranger Power!"

"Red Ranger Power!"

Once morphed, they appear not far from the freeway. Billy grits his teeth. It's been more than a year since the war, and since they've been called to action for a serious threat. While it feels great to have the Morphing Grid flowing through him again, it's tainted by the knowledge that there's a job to be done. With his sights on the monster, he thrusts his hand into the air and is relieved when the others join him in calling out, "We need Ninja Megazord power, now!"

The battle is intense.

They're all out of practice and there's a degree of uncertainty hanging over Billy at the knowledge that this time, if they need it, they can't call on the Ninja Mega Eaglezord. They're knocked down twice before they even get the chance to engage in the fight.

"Keep it together guys! We have to focus!"

"Right!"

When they finally get a hit in, Billy immediately retreats, grateful that the monster gives chase. Before long, they've cleared the freeway, bringing the battle near the cliffs by the sea. They're knocked down a few more times, and Billy's glad the evening is cool and the coast is empty.

It's soon clear that his earlier assessment wasn't right: Vile isn't just testing their strength—he means business. They're a team though, and collectively smarter than a monster. Through perseverance, they endure and soon manage to get the literal upper hand, finishing the creature off with a well timed punch with the Power Gloves.

Even once the monster lays smoking, defeated, on the sand their sense of triumph is subdued. They know all too well what this means: their brief respite is over. Earth is under attack.

"Good job, everyone," Billy says, a little too late for a proper morale boost.

"We showed him who's boss around here!" Aisha calls, considerably more enthusiastically.

Kimberly's the first to speak once they're back in the Command Center, helmets in hand. "I can't believe that Vile creep is really back."

"And he's meaner than ever," Adam agrees. "I don't remember his monsters being so difficult to fight last time."

"Yeah." Rocky slumps against one of the panels. "We were getting hammered for a while back there."

"That's because last time we fought Vile, we had Jason on the team." Billy puts some data into the computer system. "The Ninja Megazord just isn't as powerful without combing with Jason's Golden Eaglezord."

Aisha and Kim share wary looks. "There's no way Jason's ever going to agree to come back," Aisha says. "It was hard enough to get him to agree the last time."

Rocky looks distraught. "But if we really need him, he's _got _to."

"I'm afraid Aisha may be right; Jason's absolutely retired now. That was part of our agreement when he came back last time. We can't keep relying on him." Billy types a few more things on the control panel. "Anyway, we may not need to. I should be able to boost the mega receptor strength of the other Ninjazords to compensate for the missing Eaglezord transmitters. And, if we absolutely need it, I'll find a way to remotely pilot it from inside the Ninja Mega Eaglezord."

Adam moves beside Billy at the computer, staring at the read out. "Can you do that?"

Billy shrugs. "I'll have to find away. It may not be easy, but I don't think it's impossible." He's just not sure when he'll have the time to work on it between helping Tommy and keeping his job.

"I really thought this was all over," Kimberly says. "It's like we fought that war for nothing."

Billy spins around. "That's not true. We defeated Lord Zedd and Rita. That's a huge victory for us."

"It's just not easy," Adam says, "considering the losses we took to get there."

Sometimes, it's like Billy doesn't even know these people. He sees Adam at work almost every day, and yet when he's standing beside him in their Ranger suits, it's almost like talking to someone else completely. Even Kimberly has changed so much these last few years, and he's known her so much longer than the rest. "Angel Grove can and will recover," he says. "We can't let what happened back there deter us from stopping Vile's new attacks."

"Billy is right," Zordon says. "Now especially, the Ranger team must stand united and strong. Master Vile will use any weaknesses against you in his revenge for his children."

Clenching his teeth again, Billy doesn't turn around. "You know _for a fact_ that Vile has come seeking revenge for Rita and Rito?"

Zordon's momentary hesitancy tells Billy all he needs to know. "It is the only explanation."

"No, it's not; it's the _most likely_ explanation, not the only one." Billy finally turns around. "If all you have is conjecture, then say it. Don't speak in absolutes. That kind of inaccuracy is what nearly lost us the war." Before anyone can protest, Billy takes a deep breath. "I've got a lot work to do and not a lot of time to do it in. Let me know if we get any more _concrete _information." To Alpha, he says, "Write up a message to Master Vile. If we can end this through negotiation, I'd like to try."

Aisha stares at him. "Do you think that'll really work?"

"No." Billy picks up his helmet. "But that doesn't mean it isn't worth trying." He looks to Adam. "I may need your help when it comes to reconfiguring the Ninja Mega Eaglezord."

"You can count on me."

"Thanks." To the whole group, Billy says, "Stay on your toes, guys. It's been a while, and I felt like our coordination was slipping back there. We don't hang out together the way we used to. That might have to change if Vile proves to be a lasting threat."

"Hey, we've finally found a good use for Rocky's parties!" Aisha laughs.

A pang of guilt shoots through Billy. _They're _not the ones that haven't been hanging out together, are they? "I am sorry I had to miss it."

"Hey, man, it's all right. Don't sweat it." Rocky clasps his shoulder. "I just hope your friend's okay."

Tension floods through Billy at the words, though he knows he gave Rocky permission to tell the others he was helping out an old friend. "I was actually on my way to visit him when we were interrupted. I had better go and see if I can salvage my car from that freeway wreck."

"I don't envy you there." Aisha smiles. If anyone is undaunted from Vile's return, it's her. "We'll keep in touch."

"Until later." Adam waves.

"Good luck," Rocky says. Almost as one, all three of them teleport out together.

Touching Billy's arm as she approaches, Kimberly smiles up at him. "Don't be too hard on yourself. We held together just fine, and goodness prevailed."

He shrugs. "That may not always be the case."

Kimberly gently punches his shoulder. "Don't be such a sourpuss. We're gonna do fine." She takes a breath. "Anyway, I guess it's good to feel needed again, don't you think?"

"I suppose that's one way to look on the bright side. All the same, I prefer the peace."

"Well, I don't disagree with that." She sighs, and then brightens. "Hey, who knows? Maybe Vile will accept your negotiations after all? He never did seem all that fond of his kids in the first place."

"Wouldn't that be nice?"

"I'll keep my fingers crossed. Cheer up, Billy! You did great. We all did great. No matter how many bad guys come, we're never going to let anything happen to this world. Believe it. Now, go get your car."

Billy smiles slightly as she teleports out, but she doesn't know about Tommy, and his heart is heavy with thoughts of the road ahead.

Although he teleports to a field near the freeway and actually manages to find his car, in the gridlock and pandemonium, it takes Billy six hours to get home. The guilt he feels at not going to see Tommy is completely overcome by exhaustion.

When his alarm goes off Wednesday morning, it feels as though he's only had his eyes closed a matter of seconds. Only sheer willpower makes him get out of bed.

At lunch, Adam slides into his cubicle and sets a large cup of coffee on his desk. Billy's buried his face in his arms, but he has been unable to nap. "Thanks."

"I've never seen you like this. What's up?"

"It took me six hours to get my car off the freeway last night." He doesn't lift his head off his desk, just watches the steam rising out of the mug. "If I could afford it, I would have just written the car off."

"You should've called in sick today."

Billy finally lifts his eyes to look up at Adam. His tie is neat, his hair perfectly in place. He doesn't have any coffee of his own, but is the very picture of bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. "I'm not sick."

"I think people would understand if you told them you needed a day off after almost getting crushed by a sixty-foot tall monster."

"Hmm." Billy drags the coffee closer, closing his eyes to take in the scent. "I don't know how I'm going to do everything I need to do and keep a nine-to-five job."

"So quit?"

"I need the money."

"You can invent interdimensional tracking beams but not something that you could sell for money? I don't believe that."

Billy buries his face in his arms again. He's heard it before: he should sell his inventions. Perhaps this'll finally be the motivation that gets him to stop inventing and deal with the red tape of patents. Perhaps not. "Need time to sort through all that, too."

"I'm sure you'll think of something. Want me to pick you up a sandwich in the cafeteria?"

"That would be exceptionally beneficial." Billy finally drags the coffee to his lips as Adam walks off.

Earning money really shouldn't be so difficult. It's absurd—he's neglecting working on machines that could help protect the entire world because he needs to hold down a day job to keep his house. There's no doubt in his mind that if people only _knew_, they'd find a way to let him focus on what's really important.

The freeways are still closed from the attack and Billy's far too tired to take surface roads to get into Devil's Cove. He's not supposed to do it, but with weariness and aggravation motivating him, he teleports into an alley not far from the Cat's Beard. Normally he'd feel guilty using the teleportation powers for his own personal gain, but as it's to help Tommy, the Ranger Zordon forgot, he can't seem to muster up enough care to give a fuck.

Reggie grunts as he moves aside, but Billy's mood is too foul to muster a greeting. The club itself, although loud, is quieter than the last time he was there, which Billy is grateful for. If business was damaged by the monster attack, there's no indication he can see. He sits at the bar and orders a vodka and tonic, which he promptly downs. Tommy's on stage, somehow managing to pole dance in leather pants.

Billy orders another vodka and tonic and while waiting for it to arrive, finds himself resenting Tommy for being too stubborn to leave this place. He knows it's not Tommy's fault, but they could be having a nice, quiet dinner at his house right now instead of torturing themselves this way.

When the second drink arrives, Billy slides over his credit card. "Tell your boss I want Tommy tonight. He can charge whatever amount that requires to this card."

The bartender's eyebrows rise, but he says nothing as he palms the plastic and disappears.

Billy tries to catch Tommy's eyes, but it's no good. By the time the bartender returns, Billy's drink is empty, save for the melting ice. "Well?"

"He's all yours." The bartender slaps the credit card back on the table. "We close at midnight on Wednesdays. Mack says you've done this before and know where to go." After taking a moment to refill some drinks, he returns to Billy. "Tommy must really like you. You're not really his type."

Part of Billy wants to know what Tommy's type is. The rest of him screams at the thought. "Must be my lucky night."

"Must be." He leans against the counter and inclines his head toward Tommy. "Tell us what's he like, then, eh? I see him dancing all the time, but he never gives me the time of day."

Billy's glad. The last thing Tommy needs is a bartender for a friend. "He's stubborn. Arrogant." His eyes trail across to the stage. Tommy's lost the leather trousers and is performing some quite impressive, almost graceful moves on the pole now. "Indescribable, really." He pushed his tumbler to the bartender. "What time is it?"

"Half-past nine. You got a while. Want another drink?"

Billy stops after three. He determines that tomorrow night he'll work on reconfiguring the zords until eleven-thirty and then teleport to Devil's Cove. Sitting here getting drunk while watching Tommy pole dance is perhaps the least productive way to spend his time.

When he's finally allowed backstage to find the dingy room, Billy feels like he could collapse on the filthy bed and sleep. He sits on the rickety chair and pops his neck.

For once, Tommy's more alert than he is, though Billy suspects that's has more to do with having snorted another line and not from any actual rest; physically, he looks even more wrecked than usual.

"You again," he says upon seeing Billy. "I might've known."

"Good to see you, too." He's slumped in his chair and doesn't bother straightening out.

Tommy's brow furrows. "What's with you?"

The words are sneering and slurred, but they make Billy smile. It's not deep, but it is concern. "I've had a very long day. In case you haven't heard, there was a monster attack last night near Angel Grove, the first we've had in a really long time. After taking care of that, I had to go get my car off the freeway the monster had been attacking. It was almost totaled and it took me six hours to get off the freeway and back home. Then I had to wake up and work eight hours at my meaningless IT job before coming here to sit in a rundown bar and pay exorbitant prices just to talk to an old friend."

Tommy's unmoved. "Poor widdle Billy." He sits on the bed. "Do you have any idea of what I had to do yesterday?" He snorts. "Mack's having a great time making me pay back all the money I owe him. A cushy IT job sounds like a joke. And believe me, it's not over yet. Just know he's got something big and awful planned. He keeps looking at me and grinning in that moneymaking way of his."

Billy shakes his head. "I really don't understand. You unequivocally hate it here. Why stay?"

"Because I—"

"Because you belong here, yes, I know. That's not an answer. That's an excuse. You weren't Rita's Green Ranger for more than a year. How does that translate into subsisting in this living hell for six years? Haven't you paid your due?"

"You know nothing."

"Yes, right. And you're all-knowing."

"I don't harass you at your job. Why do you come to harass me at mine?"

Billy laughs. What else can he do? "I would _love _for you to come harass me at my work, Tommy. Would you, please?"

Scowling, Tommy turns away, his curtain of sweaty hair obscuring his face. "Go to hell."

Tommy's too thin. He's solid and muscular, but he's too thin. His cheekbones are too prominent and his skin too pale. Heart aching, Billy sits forward on his chair. "I'd do anything to see you out of this club, just for one night. One hour, even. Can I take you out to dinner some night? Meet you at your . . . do you have a place?"

Though Tommy doesn't turn his head, he does dip it, looking at Billy through his hair. "Mack would kill me if he found out."

Billy banks on that being hyperbole. "Mack doesn't need to know. Besides, we'd just go to dinner. Nothing for him to get mad about. You're allowed to have friends, aren't you?"

"He'd never believe it was just dinner." Tommy rubs one hand over his bare shoulder.

Billy can tell he's contemplating it. "I could go to your place with take out. You wouldn't have to be seen in public with me."

"What's the point? I'm not leaving the club."

Billy runs his hand through his hair. He's so tired he's not thinking clearly. "I just . . . I want a chance to talk to you somewhere outside of this hell hole."

Getting to his feet, Tommy says, "Entertaining your whims isn't worth losing my job over. You've caused me enough trouble already."

Billy gets to his feet, too. "When's your day off?" He pauses. "Do you get a day off?"

"Go back to your safe little cubicle, Billy. You're not cut out for this place. You're certainly not prepared to handle me."

A strange wave of dizziness washes over Billy, and he puts a hand out on the wall to steady himself. His vision swims for a moment, and when it clears, the door is open and Tommy is gone.

Thursday, he puts in his hours at work and immediately teleports to the Command Center. There, while skillfully avoiding Zordon, he works on reconfiguring and improving the zords until eleven. He picks up coffee and food at a late night diner and teleports to the Cat's Beard by eleven-thirty. It takes a few minutes to get word out that he wants to engage Tommy again, and he fidgets in anticipation waiting for the confirmation to come back.

It does just as the club shuts down and he thanks Mack's greediness for giving him the opportunity. Back in the small room, Billy sets the food out on the bed. It's steak, potato and eggs for under fifteen dollars and hardly top of the line, but he hopes it's appealing all the same.

Tommy's nostrils flare as soon as he walks into the room. His gaze was already on the chair where he expected to see Billy, but instantly redirects to the food on the bed.

Billy gestures. "Help yourself."

Without even a greeting, Tommy does, setting upon the bed like a vulture. The steak goes in seconds, and Billy's not even sure Tommy's chewing the meat before swallowing it whole. He devours the eggs and potatoes next and when it's all gone, he sucks on the bone in a way that makes Billy lower his eyes.

"Glad to see you liked it."

Tommy's eyes are almost feral. They focus slowly, as if he actually hadn't seen Billy earlier. "Haven't eaten in days." He sets the bone down and meticulously licks his fingers.

Billy wants that to be hyperbole, too. "I should've brought more. I will tomorrow."

Tommy shakes his head. "Won't see you tomorrow. Big show, Friday night."

"I'll bring food anyway. I'll leave it somewhere you can get it. Do you know Cindy? She's one of the waitresses."

Tommy's eyes sharpen even more.

"I'll give it to her to give to you. Or . . . or Reggie? The doorman? He could hold it until you leave?" Billy sits forward on his chair. "I could meet with you after the club closes. We could find an all night café."

"Can't do this with you anymore."

Tommy's much more closed off tonight, and Billy wonders why. He didn't see the show and hopes nothing happened. Tommy stinks as always, but perhaps there's more alcohol on his breath than usual. "I can't give up on you, Tommy. You'll understand someday."

Finding the plate completely devoid of food now, Tommy pushes all the trash to the floor and, rolling onto his stomach, spreads out on the bed. "Wish you'd just fuck me and get it over with."

Billy doesn't move. Tommy's words were muffled by the mattress and he doesn't care to ask for clarification. Instead, he sits in the quiet, listening as Tommy's breathing slows into the steady rhythm of sleep. It's not how he wanted to spend the evening, but part of him suspects giving Tommy real food and even an hour of sleep is the best possible thing for him right now.

He slips out while Tommy sleeps, hoping they don't disturb him for a while.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter four:**

On Friday, Billy doesn't teleport in until after midnight.

Reggie puts a big, meaty hand on his chest. "What's in the bag?"

He expected this and replies promptly. "Late dinner." Billy opens it to show him. "And some cookies. Want some?" He pulls out four chocolate chip cookies, neatly bundled in a napkin. "Still warm."

Reggie's brow furrows, but he accepts the cookies. "You didn't put shit in them or nothing, did you?"

"No. I just thought if I was going to bring my dinner with me, I ought to bring something to share. If you don't want them though . . ."

"No, no. That's fine. That's fine." Reggie's thick fingers take awhile to delicately unwrap the napkin, but he nods and pops one, whole, into his mouth. "S'not bad. Homemade?"

"Yes. Just out of the oven."

Reggie nods approvingly as he finishes chewing and swallows.

Billy inclines his head toward the stairs. "Can I go down?"

"All right. Just don't make a habit of bringing your dinner with you."

The music is so loud tonight Billy can hear it even out on the stairwell with the door closed. He squeezes inside and it's like stepping into a sauna. The air is stale and hot and, as he pushes his way past people, sweat is soon dripping off him.

Last night, the small bag of food fit neatly undetected under his shirt. He's brought four times as much tonight and two dozen cookies as bribes, but he doesn't need them. No one bars his way as he navigates toward the "Employes Only" sign.

He stands beside the door for an hour, watching what he can see of Tommy on stage from his vantage point. The crowd starts to thin after one and, during a particularly loud part of the stage show, Billy slips through the doors.

He walks quietly, mentally mapping the place out, memorizing where the backstage dressing room is in relation to both Mack's office and the private room. There are dancers in the dressing room when he arrives, but they hurry on stage for a grand finale, leaving the room empty. Along the back of the wall, in lieu of closets, are racks of costumes. Billy picks the one furthest in the corner and hides behind it.

Half an hour later, the show is over and the room floods with dancers again. To his relief, none hang their costumes up on his rack and no one notices the aroma of food in the musty old cellar. He doesn't dare put his head out to look for Tommy, but he hears his voice, low and indistinct. When the room finally starts to clear, Billy nudges the rack away from the wall and steps forward.

One of the dancers notices him, and Billy acts quickly. "Special delivery from an admirer." He reaches into the bag and pulls out a neat bundle of cookies. "There's enough for everyone."

They're all exhausted, hungry and mistreated, and suddenly none of them care that a strange man is backstage with them; not when he's handing out food.

Tommy watches him in the mirror, but doesn't get up or turn around until Billy makes his way past the others and leans against the counter. He sets the bag down between them. "I'll be here tomorrow, too." He smiles sadly. Tommy looks so utterly wrecked. "You all right?"

"You fucking let me fall asleep." His brow furrows. "Mack was furious."

"Then Mack is an idiot. I paid my money. He has no business dictating what I let you do."

Tommy's eyes are on the bag. "I slept for almost two hours."

"The club was closed."

"He was waiting for me to finish to lock up."

"Then he should've checked up on you sooner." Billy crosses his arms. "Look, I'm sorry if that got you in trouble." He takes a deep breath. "I won't do it again." He nudges the bag closer. "There's plenty to eat. I recommend getting out of here with it while you can."

Tommy pulls the bag into his lap and glances at the other dancers. They're all chattering loudly and enjoying their cookies. "Well, thanks." His voice is hardly even a whisper.

There's something in the words that tugs at Billy's heart. "We can go any time, Tommy. You can stay with me as long as you want or need, you know. I really mean it. I've got an extra bed, a shower, food . . . just say the word."

Tommy stares at him. "I can't. I owe Mack."

Billy holds his breath to keep from shouting.

Almost as if on cue, Mack's voice booms down the corridor. "What's all this noise?"

All eyes turn toward the door and Billy acts fast. He gives Tommy's shoulder a squeeze and then teleports out before Mack can catch him.

He repeats the process almost exactly on Saturday and Sunday, but both times teleports directly into the dressing room, behind the clothes rack, just before the final dance number finishes. He brings more food with him too, but hands it to the other dancers discreetly so they take it without alerting Mack.

On Sunday, Tommy says, "We close at midnight on Monday."

Billy smiles. "See you just before midnight then."

It doesn't go quite as he planned on Monday. The dancers come in after the final number as usual and happily take the thirty-nine cent tacos Billy brought for them, but Tommy doesn't show. Monday nights are much quieter than weekends, and only one fourth as many dancers show up.

After half an hour, the dressing room is nearly empty. Concerned, he calls out before the last dancer leaves. "Where's Tommy?"

He's given an elaborate shrug. "Saw him talking to Mack after the show."

Relieved slightly to know Tommy's there, Billy decides to wait. The lights in the hall shut off and after another half hour he starts toward the door with the intention of making his way to Mack's office. He's only a few feet out of the dressing room when he hears feet approaching and hurries back inside. There isn't time to hide in the clothing rack, so Billy presses himself against the wall.

Tommy enters and passes right by without noticing him. He sits in front of the mirror and scrubs his face with a wad of tissues. Staring at himself in the mirror, he bares his teeth and swipes his arm across all the makeup on the counter, knocking most of it to the ground.

Glancing out the door, Billy ascertains he's come alone.

"Tommy?"

Tommy spins around, startled, but relaxes when he sees Billy. He rubs his palms over his eyes. "You're still here."

"Of course I am. What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He takes a deep, shuddering breath. "Mack just . . ." Tommy sniffs and lifts his head. "He isn't letting me use right now."

It takes a moment for the words to make sense to Billy, but then he blinks. To him, that sounds ideal. Normally Tommy's too drugged; it's well past time he should've quit. It also explains the strained look in his eyes, and the agitated way he glances around the room. Billy slides onto the stool beside him. "That's not necessarily a bad thing. Just be careful, Tommy. Given your usage rates, you'll probably experience considerable withdrawal."

Tommy snorts. It's almost a laugh. There are unshed tears in his eyes. "Did you bring food?"

"Yeah." Billy hands him the bag. "You shouldn't be doing this alone. Come back to my place tonight."

For once, Tommy doesn't tear open the bag. His gaze is focused on Billy. "I have to do this." He closes his eyes, calming his breathing. "You should go. Mack'll be in any moment."

"It'll be all right." Billy reaches out and squeezes Tommy's hand.

Tommy stuffs the food into a dark bag on the ground by his feet and resumes scrubbing the makeup off his face. "Just go. Please."

It's so hard for Billy to leave him like this. Withdrawal isn't easy. He knows how badly users suffer all sorts of horrible symptoms—and experience suicidal thoughts. Hoping Mack knows what he's doing, Billy gets to his feet. "I'm just a phone call away. Any time."

In the hallway, he hears Mack approaching, jauntily whistling "Singin' in the Rain."

"I'll see you soon," Billy whispers before teleporting out.

Concerned for Tommy's health, Billy forgoes working on the zords and heads to the club at nine on Tuesday, stopping only for Chinese takeout. Tommy's not on stage when he arrives and doesn't come on stage at any point during the number. Billy's heart is in his throat as he tries to figure out what to do.

It's while looking for Cindy that he notices how different the crowd is. The rowdy men at the foot of the stage are gone, replaced by cheering women. The performers are different too—mostly women and, as Billy realizes, women dressed as men. He turns around completely and discovers that he's one of the only male patrons there.

Cindy's nowhere in sight, but the bartender is the same as usual.

"Where's Tommy," he asks without preamble.

"Didn't expect to see you in here tonight." The bartender tilts his head. "You better buy a drink before you start prying me with questions."

"Fine. Give me a vodka and tonic." He hands over his card. "Where's Tommy?"

Grinning, the bartender takes the card. "How should I know that?"

It's hard not to throttle the man. "Why isn't he here?"

The bartender laughs. "Are you kidding? It's Ladies Night! He's probably home sleeping."

The thought terrifies Billy, though he isn't sure why. "Where does he live?"

"Tommy? He's hardly said five words to me. You think I know where he lives?" Turning away, the bartender fixes Billy's drink and runs his card.

It's not the sort of problem Billy can work out. If Tommy's address was listed somewhere, he would have long ago found it in his research. The only person he can imagine who has it is Mack, and he somehow doubts that Mack's going to give it up lightly. "How much can I pay you to distract Mack for an hour?"

"You've gotta be joking. As if I could distract _anyone _for an hour. Anyway, even if I could, your card was just declined." He grins. "Been a big spender lately, haven't you?"

Snatching his card back, Billy pushes away from the counter. Stalking through the club with purpose, he passes through to the employee's area unimpeded. His feet take him quickly toward Mack's office, and he lets out a breath of relief when he finds it empty. Not expecting it to stay that way for very long, he quickly surveys the area. To his surprise there isn't a computer, so he starts rifling through filing cabinets, looking for any sort of employee records.

Mack is fairly organized and Billy pulls a manila envelope marked "T. Oliver" in almost no time at all. He flips through it quickly, and then, hearing footsteps, shuts the cabinet and teleports out with the entire file.

Though he quickly finds a home address, he has to stop and buy a map to figure out how to get there. It takes almost fifteen minutes to discover it's a mere ten minute walk from the club. The map leads him to an even seedier part of Devil's Cove, where homeless camp out in tents and cardboard houses along the street. Eyes follow his every move, and all of Billy's senses remain hyper aware.

The complex itself should have been condemned in the 1980s. All of the ground floor windows are broken, despite the bars over them. The inside is dark, and the stairwell running up to the second floor has entire steps missing. There's a drunk sleeping on one of the landings and Billy's not sure if the reeking stench of urine emanates from him or not.

Tommy's room is on the third floor. The landing is illuminated by one dim, naked bulb, which casts its paltry light over a threadbare runner stretched over stripped hardwood floors. Billy raps on the front door. "Tommy? Tommy, it's Billy."

Anxious, he tries the handle and discovers the door doesn't even have a lock.

Tommy, dressed in filthy sweat pants and nothing else, is curled up in a ratty armchair in full view of the front door, illuminated only by the light from the hallway and a neon sign outside the window. His eyes are on Billy as he enters, but he makes no effort to move.

"You're here!" Billy gasps, hurrying inside. "Are you all right?" He cringes at how stupid that sounds.

"Thought about answering," Tommy quietly says. "Seemed . . . so much effort."

Tommy looks worse than Billy's ever seen him. He looks _far _worse. "What's wrong? What happened?" He sets the Chinese food down and goes to touch Tommy's clammy forehead.

The reaction is instant. "Don't touch me!" Tommy jerks away violently but doesn't get very far.

Stunned, Billy draws his hand back. Tommy's breathing hard and pulls his bare feet up to his chest. Up close like this, Billy can see him more clearly. His eyes are haunted and one is bruised; he's sure it'll be black by morning. He's curled up, favoring one side, and his makeup has smeared down his face in twin tear tracks. "Did you get into a fight?"

Tommy doesn't answer, just moans softly and stares listlessly over Billy's shoulder.

Outside of the sweltering club, Billy can really smell Tommy. For once, he doesn't smell like alcohol. It's a muskier scent than that, something feral mixed with sweat. It makes his stomach roil. At a loss, Billy picks up the bag of food. "I brought Chinese."

Tommy doesn't snatch the bag away like Billy anticipated. He doesn't even look over until Billy's got the lid off the container and the scent of food fills the air. Billy sticks the plastic fork in and hands it over, not daring to touch Tommy.

With what looks like considerable effort, Tommy accepts the food. His first bite is very slow, but as he chews, a little life comes back into his eyes. Before long, he's eating with gusto.

Billy takes Tommy's interest in the food as a good sign and uses the moment to look Tommy over for further injuries—he identifies deep bruising here and there but nothing is bleeding or broken. He doesn't know exactly what's wrong, but he's starting to piece together an idea. _Something _happened and since Tommy hasn't been using, he felt it much more keenly and had no way to dull the after effects.

"You're a real wreck," Billy quietly, affectionately says. "You should've called me."

Between bites of his food, Tommy weakly says, "Don't have a phone."

The words stab Billy. He never thought of that. "I'm an idiot. I never should've left you alone yesterday."

"Had to do it," Tommy quietly says. "Had a debt to pay."

Billy wants to protest, but he doesn't. He wants to comfortingly touch Tommy too, but he doesn't do that either. "Are you debt free now?"

Tommy's stopped eating, but stares at his food, contemplating. "For now." He shivers and sets the container aside. One of his hands rakes through his tangled hair, which causes him to wince.

Billy can see that his scalp is red and irritated and his hair is filthy. The smell is quite intense when he lifts his arm. "Tommy, don't take this the wrong way, but you could seriously use a shower."

Tommy's eyes flash as they redirect on Billy, and for a moment Billy's afraid he's seriously offended him. "Want one so bad," Tommy whispers. As if disgusted with himself, Tommy digs his fingertips into one of his shoulders and presses so hard his closely-shorn nails cut through a thin layer of dried sweat on his skin. He repeats the process, leaving red trails cutting through filth. "Water's been off for weeks."

Sensing an opening, Billy wastes no time. "Come back to my house, Tommy." He feels so close to success he can hardly believe it. "You can shower and clean up there. There's plenty of hot water and big fluffy towels and all the soap and shampoo you could want." The broken look Tommy gives him makes Billy's heart ache.

When Tommy speaks, it's not even loud enough to be called a whisper. "I want to."

Not daring to breathe, Billy extends his hand, palm up. "We can be there in ten seconds."

Tommy stares at Billy's hand. He starts to reach out and then closes his eyes before his fingers fold into Billy's.

Relief floods through Billy, and a second later he presses the teleport key.

They arrive in Billy's living room, Tommy in the easy chair, Billy kneeling on the floor beside him. He releases Tommy's hand and watches him gasp at the sensation.

Not wanting to give Tommy time to reconsider, Billy springs to his feet. "The bathroom is this way." He gets the shower running as soon as possible, convinced that the steam and sound of running water will entice Tommy more than anything he can say. "Take as much time as you'd like." He pulls a big bath towel out from under the sink and sets it on the counter. "There's shampoo and conditioner, lots of soap, wash cloths . . . just let me know if you need anything else."

Tommy stands in the doorway, dazed. He looks even worse in the harsh bathroom lighting. Billy thinks he can see bite marks on his neck. "Thanks."

"I'll just be in the other room if you need anything."

Tommy's gaze starts tracking again, honing in on Billy as he edges out of the bathroom. "Billy." He blinks once. "You . . ." He rubs his shoulder again. "Nevermind."

"What is it?"

Heavily, Tommy leans against the door. His face screws up, as if in pain, and Billy realizes he's holding back tears. He shakes his head. "Want some blow so fucking bad." Before he can cry, Tommy rubs the back of his wrist against his eyes. His attention is drawn by the running water. It's hot enough now to start steaming the mirror.

It's horrible to watch, and Billy's so glad he doesn't have drugs. He's not sure he'd be able to keep from giving them to Tommy right now if he did. "I'm sorry. I've . . . I've got some painkillers. They should at least knock the edge off . . . off the pain." He opens the medicine cabinet and pulls out a bottle and sets a few pills on the counter. He holds onto the bottle.

Tommy doesn't reply. He doesn't even seem to have heard. Without even undressing, Tommy climbs into the shower. When the water hits him, he actually hisses, bowing his head until his hair is wet and hanging in his face. It's a heart-rending sight, and Billy has difficulty looking away and closing the door. Every fiber in his being wants to stay there and help Tommy, but he knows Tommy won't allow it.

For a while, he wanders his house, aimless. After so many days of hunting Tommy down in the club, he finds he doesn't know what to do with himself now that he has Tommy here.

He calls Trini and leaves a message on her answering machine, updating her on Tommy's condition. Not wanting to be on the phone when Tommy gets out of the shower, he doesn't try calling back later. The fear was ungrounded. After an hour, Tommy's still in the shower, and Billy can hear the water sloughing as Tommy scrubs and scrubs and knows he hasn't fallen asleep.

As it begins to stretch into two hours, Billy finds his mind slotting all the variables of the last few days into place. Tommy had been dreading something big happening. Mack had cut his alcohol and drugs off yesterday in what Billy now realizes was in preparation for _this_, whatever _this _is. If Tommy's debt's paid, he can imagine it wasn't thugs that beat him up.

Not with bite marks on his neck.

After two hours in the shower, Billy's convinced that Mack's method of making him pay back his last debt was by whoring him out to some abusive fuck who wanted Tommy clean and aware of all the abuse he was going to dole out. It fills Billy with such rage he actually sees red for several seconds before managing to calm himself down.

Not much later, the water finally shuts off.

Sitting out in the living room while waiting for Tommy to dry off and exit the bathroom is the worst waiting game he's ever played.

At long last, the door opens. "Billy?"

"I'm here." He springs to his feet and hurries over.

Tommy's standing in the doorway, framed by steam, the towel wrapped around his waist. His hair is clean and shiny, but even more than that, his face is free of makeup. For once, it actually looks like _Tommy_. Billy hadn't realized how much the makeup changed him.

"Do you . . . do you have a shirt I could wear or something?"

"Right. Of course. Just a second." Two hours and he didn't think to find something for Tommy to wear! He's hopeful Tommy will let him burn the horrible things he came over in.

Tommy's taller and broader than Billy, and he's already given away the two articles of clothing that would best fit him, but he finds a pair of old pajamas that ought to do the trick—and some boxers. "These'll be okay to sleep in. We can get you something that fits better in the morning." He hands the bundle over.

"Sleep?"

"There's no way you're going back to that apartment." Billy walks down the hall and opens the door to the guest room. "Look, this is where you'll stay." It's a nice room done up in a nautical theme. The bed is a queen and loaded with pillows. "At least for tonight."

Holding the bundle of clothes to his chest, Tommy wanders into the room.

Feeling apprehension rolling off him, Billy says, "You're safe here. No one can hurt you."

"I have to be at work at eight tomorrow." He turns back to Billy. "Will . . . will you drive me?"

"You're not going back to that club. There's no way. Not after . . . not after this."

"But Mack-"

"Fuck. Mack." He watches the way Tommy's back straightens upon hearing those words come out of Billy's mouth. "You paid your debt, didn't you? Just . . . let me take care of the rest." He crosses to the bed and pulls back the covers. "Get some sleep. When did you last have a full night of rest?"

"Dunno." Tommy stares at the sheets. "Don't ever sleep well."

"You're going to sleep well tonight. Look . . . I've got an idea. You change, I'll be right back."

He leaves Tommy there and ducks into his bedroom and the adjoining master bathroom. It takes a bit of rummaging, but he finally finds the sleeping pills he got not long after the war. When he returns, he's pleased to see Tommy's pulled the boxers on. "We can't make a habit of this, but these will knock you out in thirty minutes guaranteed." He puts two pills in Tommy's hand, and pressed a glass of water into the other. "Did you take the painkillers earlier?"

"Yeah." Tommy doesn't hesitate; he's desperate and swallows the pills down gratefully. He crawls into bed after that, curled up on his side. "Will you . . . will you stay until I'm asleep?"

The fragility in Tommy's voice almost takes Billy's breath away. "Of course." He wants to stroke Tommy's wet hair and whisper reassuring words, but he doesn't dare.

Tommy curls up with the pillow and closes his eyes, letting out a groan of contentment as he sinks into the soft mattress. Billy knows the sleeping pills couldn't have taken hold that quickly, but he's out within five minutes.

Billy sits with him for half an hour and then quietly picks up the wet discarded towel, turns out the light and goes to tidy the bathroom. Tommy sleeps, but Billy can't. His mind is whirling fast, desperate for outlet and a way to make this _right_.

He soon finds himself seated at his computer, Tommy's file from the Cat's Beard at his side, typing up a new contract. It takes him less than twenty minutes to draft and then he prints out twenty copies. It's just after midnight, but Billy's on fire. Feeling like a man possessed, he checks in on Tommy once more and then goes into his living room and morphs right there.

Zordon's rules echo in his head, but he mentally justifies this: he's not escalating a battle; he's defending Tommy.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter five:

Although it's almost one in the morning, Mack is still in his office, feet propped on his desk, going through the night's receipts. Ladies Night doesn't always turn a big profit, but tonight was quite successful for other reasons entirely: he did particularly well with Tommy's client. So well, in fact, he might just try and coerce Tommy into doing it again. Sure, the stakes were high, but the payout far exceeded any of Tommy's former clients; certainly more than the little geekoid that keeps dropping in to see him, stirring up trouble each time.

Hearing an odd noise in the hall, Mack takes his feet off the desk and sits up.

A second later, a flash of blue floods his tiny office, and suddenly one of the actual goddamn Power Rangers is standing there in front of him.

"Jesus Christ!" Mack shouts, nearly falling out of his chair in surprise. It's their leader, the blue one, and something about him seems Ioff/i.

"Mack Simms?" the Ranger asks.

"Y-yeah. That's me." Mack takes a calming breath. "Who the hell are you?"

"I've received some complaints about the way you've been running your . . . business. I'm here to enforce a little reform."

"The fuck are you talking about?" To Mack's further surprise, the Ranger drops a stack of papers on his desk. Although he's shaking inside, Mack is reasonable and reaches out to pick up one of the sheets. A brief scan tells him that it's a new contract for his employees. The terms are laughably generous, with regular hours, much higher pay rates, health and dental and an optional 401k. It's such an absurd idea of 'reform' that most of his fear subsides. "Well, I thank you for bringing this to my attention, but I think we're all right just now."

"I believe you've misunderstood me," the Ranger says. "This isn't a suggestion."

It's so ludicrous that one of the IPower Rangers/i has appeared in his office to negotiate pay raises that Mack dismisses the whole thing out of hand. It's got to be a hoax. "What is this, some sort of joke? Which of you clowns thought this was a good idea? Is that Kyle in there? Whoever you are, you're not going to be happy when I find out." He shakes his head. "This is what I think of your fucking new contract." He tears it in half. "You're going to have to do a lot better than pretending to be one of the fucking Power Rangers if you want to scare me."

The Ranger puts a foot up on the chair on the opposite side of the desk, extends both of his arms and shouts, "Power Lance!"

Mack doesn't fucking know Ihow/I, but suddenly the bastard is holding a pair of sai. The Ranger steps on the chair and then up onto the desk. Before Mack can move, one of the sai is at his throat.

"I strongly recommend you reconsider my proposition."

"I'm . . . I'm reconsidering," Mack says and swallows hard. This is the fucking real deal! He doesn't take his eyes off the Ranger's dark visor, but grasps around his desk for a pen. His hand is shaking. "Where . . . where do I sign?"

Still crouched on the desk, the Ranger pulls one sai back and stabs one of the contracts with the tip. "Here is a good start. Just fill in the names of each of your employees. The language has been worded on these contracts in such a way that signing them automatically voids the contracts currently in use. If your employees decide not to sign these new contracts, they are officially free to leave to seek better employment."

Though he starts furiously signing them, Mack says, "What are you trying to do, ruin me?"

"No more than you have already ruined the lives of your employees." He lifts his sai. "Wait, we're not done yet. This one is for you."

At the bottom of the stack is a different document. Mack scans it, but is too rattled to really read it. "What . . . what? This says I give ownership of the club over to Reginald Arnold? The Idoorman/i? Are you out of your imind/i?"

"No, but I believe you may be, if you believe you could continue to treat your employees the way you've been treating them and get away with it."

"Since when do the Power Rangers care about shit like this?"

"Maybe it's time we started to." The Ranger points the sai at the new document. "Sign."

Muttering under his breath, Mack signs his rights to the club away. He'll tear all this up later. Raises and health care are bad enough, but there's no way he's signing ownership of the club away!

"In any event, perhaps this sort of thing Iis/i part of our regular routine. You certainly aren't privileged enough to know our usual method of operation."

Angry but holding his tongue, Mack furiously signs the last document.

Just as suddenly as they appeared, the weapons disappear. "Thank you for your cooperation." The Ranger collects all the documents, slipping them into a folder, which he places in the filing cabinet on the right. He neatly extracts all the old contracts and tucks them under his arm. "Now, if you'll kindly look this way, please."

In his hand the Ranger now holds a slender black rod. At the very tip is a light. As Mack watches, the light suddenly flashes, far brighter than a camera flash.

Dazzled, Mack blinks a few times, but his vision doesn't clear. "Hello?"

A voice in the darkness says, "I want you to go have a drink or three at the bar and then get in your car and drive home very carefully, Mr. Simms. Can you do that?"

Mack blinks a few times, but can't focus his vision. His mind feels sluggish, and he's not sure exactly where he is. "Yeah. I can do that." His eyes narrow. "Who is this?"

"That is not important. Go have a few drinks now. Good night, Mr. Simms. Thank you for your help."

"Have a few drinks. Sure." Mack gets to his feet and stumbles toward the door, nearly knocking over his hat rack. "Always happy to . . . uh. Always happy to help a customer."

–

The streets are empty and quiet after one in the morning most Wednesdays, and tonight is no exception. To keep the stillness and fog rolling in at bay, there's really only one thing to do, and so Patrol Officer Skullovitch turns the police cruiser into the parking lot of a twenty-four hour doughnut shop.

"Sure could use some coffee about now, eh Bulky?" he says, shutting the engine down.

"I do believe it is that time , Skull. Brr!" He chaffs his hands. "Can't get over how cold it's gotten the last few days. It was 102°F last week!"

Skull laughs. "That's Southern California for you. You coming in? Probably warmer inside." He unfastens his seat belt.

"Yeah, might as well. See what Don's up to these days."

Within seconds of stepping out of the patrol car, they're dazzled by a flash of blue light, which clears to reveal one of the Power Rangers.

"Uhhh," Bulk says, pointing.

"I see him. I see him."

Neither officer moves, though Skull wants nothing more than to cling and hide behind Bulk. Holding his ground, Skull waits to see what happens.

"Good evening, officers," the Ranger says, holding his empty hands up. "Hope I'm not disturbing your patrol route."

"Uhhh, not at all," Skull says.

Having regained some of his senses, Bulk gasps, "A IPower Ranger/i!"

Skull glances over at Bulk and then takes a bold step forward. "What, uh, what can we do for you tonight, Mr. uh, Blue Ranger man?"

The Ranger tilts his head in a sort of polite nod. "We don't usually report these sorts of things, you understand, preferring to let the police deal with common criminals, but I was in the area and couldn't help but notice a drunk driver departing from 32nd and Broad in Devil's Cove. I realize that might be a little outside of your boys' jurisdiction, but I've got a funny feeling about the driver of that car and thought I had better report it to the next officer I saw."

Abandoning the idea of coffee and doughnuts, Skull returns to the patrol car with a renewed sense of responsibility. "32nd and Broad, you said?" He picks up the radio dispatch.

Pulling up his belt, Bulk says, "We'll have an officer on the scene in minutes."

"Can you give us a description of the vehicle?" Skull sticks his head out of the car door. "That's a pretty bad part of town."

"As concerned as I was, I took the liberty of memorizing the license plate number. Would that help?"

Skull glances to Bulk and smiles. "Yeah. Yeah, that'll help." It takes only a few seconds for Skull to get the information out and within minutes he's hearing reports on the radio confirming that the car is on the road and does appear to be driven by someone under the influence. "Should be taken care of in a few more minutes. Thanks for the tip."

"Thank iyou/i."

"Just doing our job," Bulk proudly says.

"Is there uh, anything else we can help you with?"

The Blue Ranger tips his head again. "Not tonight. Keep up the good work."

"Hey!" Bulk says. "You too!" He looks up at the sky briefly. "Are the space villains really back?"

"I'm afraid so, but don't you worry. We're always on the job. Thanks again!"

Before either of them can speak, the Blue Ranger disappears as quickly and brilliantly as he appeared.

For a moment, Skull feels like that couldn't have possibly just happened. It's only the soft squawks emitting from his dispatch radio confirming the arrest of a forty-three year old Caucasian male drunk driver in Devil's Cove that convinces him.

Without getting out of the driver seat, Skull looks through the windshield at Bulk still standing on the pavement. "I can't believe out of all the patrol officers out tonight, he came to Ius/i."

Rather dazed, Bulk opens the passenger side door and heavily sits back down. "You . . . you don't suppose he recognized us, do you? From the times we helped the Rangers in the past?"

"Naaah," Skull says, then reconsiders. "I mean. It's probably just a coincidence, right?"

Bulk shrugs elaborately. "Or maybe he knew we'd . . . you know, believe him."

Skull shakes his head. "Nah. I mean, it's probably not even the same guy, you know? They've probably got a whole bunch of Blue Rangers." His brow furrows. "You don't really think it's been the same guys doing it since whenever they first showed up, do you?"

Bulk shakes his head. "Man. I hope they get good overtime, if it is."

Skull lets out a deep breath. "You still want coffee?"

"I think I just need to . . . process this a little longer." He reaches out and turns up the volume on the radio dispatch. "Hey, Skull?"

"Yeah, Bulk?"

"What're we gonna do if they ask us how we knew about a drunk driver all the way over in Devil's Cove? They're never going to believe a Power Ranger tipped us off."

"Yeah, huh. Not really one to put in the report, is it?"

As they listen to the radio, word comes through on the arrest, citing that in addition to the drunk driver, several kilos of illegal substances were found in the car—and a loaded, unlicensed handgun.

"We'll . . . we'll just say we got an anonymous tip," Bulk says. "I mean, that's what it was, right?"

Skull grips the steering wheel. "Right. Anonymous tip. Male, approximately five-foot seven? eight? Maybe one-forty?"

Bulk squints. "Dressed in blue."

"Dark glasses on."

"Yeah. Or . . . or a biker helmet."

"Yeah. A blue biker helmet. Couldn't really see his face. Haha, that's good, Bulk."

"I just hope, considering that it sounds like they just arrested a pretty dangerous guy, they don't ask . . ."

". . . why we listened to a faceless biker's anonymous tip about a drunk driver several towns away."

"Yeah."

That's what goes into their report, though, and at least for the night, it passes without comment. Skull calls the Devil's Cove police station when he gets off work at four in the morning and confirms the arrest. It turns out that the guy has several warrants for his arrest out, from embezzlement to dog fighting, and has run a seedy nightclub in one of the worst parts of town for years.

Skull doesn't mention the Power Ranger to anyone, but keeping the secret gnaws at his insides. As he crawls into bed, he decides there has to be a reason the Ranger came to ithem/i. He doesn't sleep well, but is up and alert when his alarm goes off at eleven-thirty. He's out the door and at Ronnie's Cafe by noon to keep his lunch date.

"Hey, Kim," he says, bending to kiss her cheek.

"Morning, Gene." She kisses him back.

"How's your day been?" He settles into the seat across from her.

"Oh, hectic as always. You'd never know these lawyers went through college at all judging by the emails they send out. I mean, I may not type more than forty-five words a minute, but at least the words I do type are polite, spelled correctly and properly punctuated."

Skull's not really listening, staring blankly at the menu. "Yeah, that's too bad."

Kimberly pouts, nudging his leg under the table. "Hey, what's wrong? You're not listening; that's not like you. Bad day at work?"

"No." His brow furrows and he refocuses on her. Seeing Kimberly's beautiful face smiling at him in concern helps reorganize his thoughts. How can he keep anything from her? Lowering his voice, he scoots his chair closer. "Something really strange did happen last night, though. Couldn't put it in my report. I don't think anyone would believe me."

Kimberly looks suitably intrigued. "Do tell."

Feeling suddenly defensive, Skull says, "Bulky was there, so he can confirm it."

"Confirm iwhat/i?"

Their relationship has been quite off and on lately, and mentioning the Power Rangers now that they've become active again might be a major turn off to her, or dredge up too many bad memories of his wild antics back in high school. Still, Skull believes he can trust her. "Last night, one of the Power Rangers just . . . dropped in on me and Bulk and told us to arrest this drunk driver he'd spotted. Funny thing is the guy was in Devil's Cove. Why would he tell two cops in Angel Grove about it?"

Kimberly's expression is unreadable. 

Skull feels crushed. "You don't believe me, do you? I shouldn't have said anything."

"No. No," Kimberly says, shaking her head as if coming out of a daze. "It's really strange, but . . . I believe you. I really do. I mean, you have a history with the Rangers, after all, don't you? Which, uh. Which Power Ranger was it?"

Skull's brow furrows. "The blue one. I guess he's the leader now, so that makes some sense. Right?"

"Right."

"You think he picked me and Bulky for a reason? 'Cause . . . 'cause we really did help them a few times, back in the day. Not a whole lot, mind you, but it did happen. Maybe he remembered us?"

"I'm sure they remember you, but I don't know if that's why he'd go to you," Kimberly says, staring off into the distance. "The answer to that would certainly be interesting to find out . . . "

–

It's been awhile since Billy's had to do so much teleporting in one day, so at first, even though it's never happened before, he thinks he just miscalculated and ended up in the Command Center instead of his living room.

"Blue Ranger!" Zordon's voice booms.

Billy turns to face him, a sinking sensation settling down around his shoulders. It's late. He's tired. This is not the time he wants to be having this conversation. "Hello, Zordon." Billy takes his helmet off and runs a hand through his hair. "Waiting until the middle of the night when I'm dead on my feet to have this conversation. How apt."

"In light of Master Vile's return, your recent actions have concerned me."

"You make it sound like they're connected."

"Are they not in their own way? Your loyalty is to the Power Rangers and the protection of Earth."

Even though he's just standing there, Billy feels his heart rate increase. His grip on his helmet tightens, but he keeps his voice steady and calm. "Surely you do not mean to suggest that my loyalty has wavered."

"Your recent actions have given the impression you may be more concerned for the life of one human over your duties as a Power Ranger."

"The . . . life of one human? Is that all Tommy is to you now? Do you realize he's the way he is now because of you?"

"I took no part in Rita's evil Green Ranger scheme."

"Yes you did. You chose five teenagers from Angel Grove to be your Power Rangers. Rita would have never picked Tommy if you hadn't led her here first. And you certainly had no problem using him after her spell wore off."

"Tommy chose to help the Rangers of his own volition."

"He was Isixteen/i!" To calm down, Billy has to look away from Zordon. "He hurt us when under Rita's spell. He felt Iobligated/i to help us once he was free. That guilt still gnaws at him. It may even yet destroy him."

There's a lull while Zordon considers his words. "It is unfortunate that Tommy was not powerful enough to come away from his involvement with the Power Rangers a stronger individual."

"Do you . . . have any idea what you're actually saying?" Billy shakes his head. "IYou/i destroyed him. You gave him these powers and when he couldn't cope with them, when he was no longer of any use to you, you Iabandoned/i him! Take some responsibility!"

"Oh, Billy," Alpha says, waddling up out of the darkness. "Don't be too hard on Zordon. He really doesn't understand the finer points of human emotion."

Billy doesn't take his eyes off Zordon. "Of course he does. He preaches to us about responsibility and loyalty all the time."

"He knows what the concepts mean. He doesn't really understand them."

"If that's true, then he has no right acting like he does. Especially not when he's risking the lives of kids, denying them help from external sources and abandoning them when they crack."

"He Imeans/i well."

"Tell that to the mentally and physically scarred man trying to rest in my house right now. Tell it to Zack, who tells me he still has nightmares about Jason getting killed in the war. Tell it to Kim who gave up her dream to be in the Pan Global Games and a career in gymnastics to be a Power Ranger. Tell it to Adam, who never got to go to college and get the degree he always wanted because he was too busy helping save the world. Good intentions just aren't enough anymore."

Zordon finally speaks. "It is exactly this kind of attitude that I fear is distracting you from what is important. It is only a matter of time before Master Vile launches another attack on Earth. Time needs to be dedicated to improving and reprogramming the zords and keeping your body and mind healthy in preparation for battle."

Billy snorts. "I can hardly even do that last bit even without taking Tommy into consideration. Do you know how much a high school graduate in Southern California working at an IT firm makes annually?"

"But Billy-"

He holds up a hand to cut Alpha off. A strange calmness washes over him, and he feels suddenly at peace. With his eyes on Zordon, he asks, "Do you regret making me leader of the Power Rangers after the others chose to attend the International Peace Conference?"

"I believed I had chosen wisely then, and I still believe so now."

The last of Billy's anger subsides. "Then believe me now. I know and understand the Rangers, as ihumans/i, better than you. We can't continue like this. Things have Igot/i to change. Things may be different on Eltar, but on Earth we all have needs that aren't being met." Putting a hand to his head, he says, "For instance, because I'm talking to you, I'm missing on out much needed sleep."

"You stole documents from a man and had him arrested instead of sleeping."

"Yes. Small restitution for what he's done to Tommy." Billy shakes his head. "I'm not going to let you manipulate me anymore, Zordon. Just be grateful that I'm not the one you abandoned and forgot. When I realized that you've known where Tommy's been all this time and never did anything to help him and never told us so we could help him, my first instinct was to come here and," he reaches out with his left hand and, after pressing a few buttons, shuts all the power in the Command Center down save for Zordon, "destroy you."

"Ai-yi-yi-yi-yi! Billy, no!"

"I assure you, Zordon, you don't want me as an enemy. I could cripple this place five times over from across town." He keys up the main power again. "If you keep treating us the way you have been, it's only a matter of time before someone snaps and does something irrevocable. I don't want it to be me." He doesn't feel as badly as he probably should at how threatening that sounds.

"I accept that whether or not I agree, there are some things important to humans that I have neglected to properly calculate for. What improvements do you propose?"

The sheer number of things Billy wants to change overwhelm him. "I'm too tired for that right now. The first one is taking care of the Rangers, former and present. That includes Tommy."

"Very well," Zordon says. "However, your skills are needed elsewhere. It would be preferable if his care was not your responsibility. "

"Wouldn't it?" Billy smiles, but it doesn't touch his eyes. "We'll work on that later. For now, just trust me to do my job. I will take care of Tommy, I will get the zords repaired and operational with the Golden Eaglezord, and I will be a good leader to the Power Rangers."

"It is a great deal of responsibility. Are you sure you can handle it?"

Zordon talking about responsibility just now almost makes Billy laugh. Perhaps he's getting a bit delirious after the long day he's had.

Alpha pipes up. "Billy has had a success rate of 98.89% over the last seven years, Zordon. I believe he can handle it."

Billy's never loved the little tin can more. He turns his face toward Zordon. "Trust me."

Zordon finally nods. "Then, may the Power protect you."

Relieved, Billy teleports out, arriving in his living room unmorphed and even more exhausted because of it. The digital display on his microwave says it's nearly three in the morning. He's not quite sure where all the time went. Forgoing a shower for now, he hurries to the guest room and lets out a breath seeing Tommy still there, sound asleep.

Knowing that Tommy is going to wake up and be in more pain and have nothing to wear, Billy pushes aside his own weariness and, grabbing his car keys, heads out. There's an all night store not too far away, where he buys some stronger painkillers and some clothes. It isn't much because his credit card is still being declined, but he has enough cash to get Tommy some underwear, a pair of pajamas that will actually fit him, two pairs of jeans, a pack of three t-shirts and a light sweater.

It's after four when he gets home and his arms feel twice their regular weight. He leaves some of the new painkillers on the night stand by Tommy's head, but not the whole bottle. Taking the clothes out of the bag, he sets them up on a nearby chair.

Then, too tired to do anything else, Billy goes into his own bedroom, changes into pajamas and crawls into bed. His brain whirls with thoughts of how to reform the Command Center, so Billy pulls the pillow over his head and starts one of his mental math equations guaranteed to distract his mind and put him to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter six:

There's so much pain.

Hands pulling his hair. Nails digging into his skin. Teeth biting into his neck. Sometimes, just sometimes, it feels good., and that's even worse The pleasure is swallowed by the bearish grunts, the oafish thrusts, the unkind hands. He exists in a sea of needle pricks and alcohol burning in open wounds; a tattoo session that goes on forever. And worse than the pain is the _smell_. Stale cigarettes. The sticky-sweet stink of schnapps. Semen and sweat and lube.

Someone somewhere screams.

There's a clammy, white ghost strangling Tommy and he thrashes against it, kicking it to the foot of the bed, nearly pitching himself over the side as he does. There's suddenly someone standing in the doorway and Tommy flinches and throws himself backward, pushing into the headboard instinctively to get away.

Though he's far enough away and his eyesight is bad enough that the man's face doesn't resolve, he realizes who was screaming and why they stopped, and he knows who the man standing terrified in the doorway is.

"Billy," Tommy breaths and the tension goes out of his body like a deflated balloon.

He's safe in Billy's guest room in a house miles and miles away from Devil's Cove. The relief, overwhelming as it is, kills the adrenaline, and suddenly he _hurts_. Tommy sinks back down on the mattress, closing his eyes.

The sweat is real and so is much of the pain. Everything is foggy and unclear. If he listens hard enough, Tommy is sure he can hear the walls pulsing. His brain is too big for his skull.

There's a cool hand on his brow and Tommy flinches before realizing that it's Billy. Looking at him is like looking through water, but he can see the shape of Billy's mouth now and his eyes behind his glasses. They're concerned. Tommy realizes he's talking, and as he does sound comes whooshing back to him in a roar, sharp and intense.

It feels like Tommy's swallowed his tongue, but he manages to make his mouth say, "'m all right."

"No, you're not." Billy's got a glass of water in one hand and two precious little capsules in the other. "You're suffering from withdrawal and look like you lost a fight. Take these."

"Y' should see th' other guy," Tommy slurs, but he sits up to swallow the pills obediently. His body refuses to do more than that. "S' hot."

Billy's suddenly not there anymore. Tommy doesn't have the energy to reach out for him, but he's just _gone_. There's a scraping noise behind him, and in the distance, he can now hear traffic. Moments later, bird song wafts in on a cool breeze. It's so _intense _and cold on his sweaty body Tommy's nipples harden. For a moment, he forgets Billy has disappeared. Then he's back, and he's not quite so wavery now.

"You shouldn't take those pills on an empty stomach. I'll make some soup. Just give me five minutes, okay?"

"Mmm." Tommy wants to say more, but even moving his jaw hurts.

Billy stares at him a little longer before disappearing again, this time through the door. Maybe Tommy falls asleep, but he's not sure. There aren't any dreams this time, and there are always dreams.

Later, he _feels _Billy in the room and opens his eyes again. They feel gummy, but wiping them away is too much effort. Something smells wonderful and once things focus, Tommy remembers _soup_.

It's the best fucking soup he has _ever _had, and although his body is quaking around him, he drains every drop. When it's gone, he flops back onto the bed. His hair is caught on his earrings, tugging annoyingly, and he focuses on that instead of the pain. "Whu time is it?"

Billy's sitting on the edge of the bed and glances around the room. "Eight-thirty, I think. Maybe closer to nine, now. How do you feel?"

It's been so long since someone has asked him that. Tommy rolls his head back and forth on the pillow, contemplating. "Fuzzy."

Billy actually laughs.

"Whu?"

"Nothing. That's just not the response I was anticipating." Billy's eyes dart back and forth over Tommy's face. "You've got a lot of bruising. I have some salve that should help them heal quicker. Do you want to put it on?"

The pain isn't fuzzy, so Tommy nods. Billy hands him a tube and has to close Tommy's hand around it to help him grasp. "Ummm," Tommy says.

"I can . . . help you put it on, if that's all right?"

"Yeah."

Billy's hands are light; Tommy hardly feels him at all. What he does feel is the tingle of the ointment, warming and cooling his skin. When they finish, he's exhausted. He can hardly keep his eyes open.

"I'm . . . I'm just going to be in the other room, all right Tommy? Call me if you need anything."

Tommy makes a grunt, but he's already slipping back into unconsciousness.

Later, a shrill ring jerks him out of a dreamless sleep. At first he thinks it's a siren, then an alarm. It's only when it shuts off and then trills again he realizes it for what it really is: a ringing telephone.

Suddenly the ringing stops. Billy's evidently answered, so Tommy snuggles back down in his pillow.

Only now there's a problem Tommy can't ignore. He tries, but after drawing attention to it he realizes how much he really has to _go_.

The bathroom seems impossibly far away, but Tommy's not going to make Billy help him with _this_. While he's distracted on the phone is the perfect time.

Getting upright is the hardest part. After that, Tommy manages to carefully maneuver his way to the door and into the hall. Billy sounds irate, but Tommy doesn't stop to listen, slipping into the bathroom and shutting the door.

When he finishes, he leans against the wall outside the bathroom to catch his breath.

"I will," he hears Billy say. "When _he's_ ready." There's a pause and Billy sighs. "_Believe me_, that's not the case."

"Billy?"

"Yes?" Softer, he says, "He's awake. I've got to go." He comes into view, a cordless phone against his ear. "Just a minute, Tommy." Into the phone, he says, "No. _No_. I won't open the door. I'm serious. I'll call the cops." He pauses. "That's not funny." He hangs up and hurries over to Tommy. "I'm not sure you should be out of bed just yet."

"Yeah. Feelin' woozy." He nods. "Who's on th' phone?"

He expects Billy to lie to him right up until the moment he doesn't. "Kimberly."

Tommy narrows his eyes, trying to remember Kimberly. When he finally does, they widen. "Why?"

"I assure you I did not mean for her to find out this early." Taking Tommy's arm, he gently pulls him from the wall. "C'mon, I'll help you back into bed."

Tommy isn't sure he wants to go back to bed, but he lets Billy lead him.

"You're not going to believe this, but apparently she's been seeing Skull on and off for the last few years. Romantically. You remember Skull?"

Tommy sits on the bed. It's all so mundane; like remembering a dream where some other Tommy played a role. "Mn."

"He's a police officer now, if you can believe that. Bulk, too. Last night . . . well, last night I took care of Mack Simms for you."

Tommy's head jerks up at that. It's like a big black thorn hearing that name mixed with the bubble of nostalgic reverie in his mind. "What?"

"I had him arrested for drunk driving. I gave the tip to Skull. I had no idea he was seeing Kim or that he'd . . ." Billy runs a hand through his hair. Tommy thinks he looks quite tired, like he's the one that should be sitting in bed. "Apparently he told Kim that one of the Power Rangers visited him last night. She obviously thought that was suspicious and, through a little investigation, they found out you worked in the club he owned." For a moment, Billy stares out the window. "I shouldn't have gone to Bulk and Skull, but they're police officers and I knew they'd believe me . . ." He shakes his head. "It doesn't matter. What matters now is that Mack is behind bars. Your contract is void. You're debts are all paid, and you're free from that place."

"Free." It's such a funny, little word. Part of him thinks he ought to thank Billy, but he's not sure he's grateful. Groaning, he lies back down.

"I think it's time for you to have some more pain meds."

Tommy doesn't protest when Billy hands them over. His body is so sore and confused, he's more than eager to make it all fade away.

The next three days blur together in his mind. There are nightmares that he's sure are real until Billy comes staggering into his bedroom, glasses askew, and turns on the light. Sometimes he lies very still in bed and watches the walls warp in and out. If he stares long enough, sometimes they form faces. Sometimes, the little nautical ships on the shelves dance and the anchors drop and the steering wheel spins.

Those hallucinations are more enjoyable than the ones at night, where he can't see but he can _feel _them. Bugs, crawling through the sheets, over his skin, through his hair. The temperature goes from one extreme to the other and, when it's dark, he wakes screaming every time. Even when Billy takes to leaving the lights on all the time, it doesn't help much.

But he eats and he showers and he sleeps and he heals. By the fifth day, all the worst of his aches and pains have faded, with the exception of the withdrawal, which comes and goes.

He's able to pad around the house, though not for terribly long amounts of time. Billy's bought him more clothes, but Tommy sticks to the thin sweater, even if makes him a little hot at times. Billy's never so much as hinted about it, but Tommy knows his tattoos offend him, even the less graphic ones on his arms.

He's sitting on the couch half-watching cartoons while Billy prepares lunch when the doorbell rings.

Tommy doesn't turn around when Billy goes and peers through the peephole, but he does when Billy whispers, "Shit."

Tommy's hackles rise instantly. "Cops?"

"No." Billy pauses. "Well. Sort of."

"We know you're in there. Open up!"

Tommy didn't think he'd recognize Kimberly's voice, but he identifies it immediately.

"Yeah! Open up!"

That one belongs to Skull, and he recognizes it immediately, too.

Billy looks apologetic. "I promise I'll get rid of them as soon as possible. Just give me a moment."

Tommy remains seated while Billy opens the door, but he leans back slightly to watch.

"You owe me big time, mister," Kimberly says, poking Billy in the chest as she pushes her way inside.

"Kim, wait." Billy starts after her, but she slips past and Billy's attention is drawn away as Skull fills the doorway after her.

"Tommy, _hi_," Kimberly says, sliding into the seat next to him.

Seeing her is again is unreal. She takes one of his hands up in hers, and he forgot how soft she was. "You haven't changed," he hears himself say, though he doesn't remember thinking it, let alone deciding to say it. She has changed, though. Her hair is shorter and her eyes are older.

"Tommy, I am _so _sorry I didn't come looking for you sooner. This never should have happened."

"Hey, it's all right."

She smiles, but it's sad. "There you go, trying to reassure me."

Billy appears, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I'm really not sure it's a good idea to excite Tommy so much right now. He's in a very delicate state of—"

"I don't mind," Tommy says. There's something unexpectedly nice about Kimberly. She feels safe, almost motherly, in a way he only barely remembers. Her hand in his is protective and comforting. Even with Billy there's always a strange fear tickling in the pit of Tommy's stomach, if only because he's a man. With Kim there's no threat at all.

"Look at your hair," she says, wonderingly. "It's gotten so long."

It's a mess and he knows it. It's tangled and caught on his piercings, but he hasn't had the energy to do anything about it. Billy tried once a few days ago and Tommy snapped at him the moment his fingers touched his sensitive scalp. "'m a mess."

"Well, it _is _a little tangled."

"You call that a _little_?"

Kimberly's face takes on a look of long suffering patience. "You remember Gene, don't you, Tommy?"

Skull _has _changed. He's as tall and skinny as ever, but his punkish clothing has gone, replaced by a button down and slacks. His hair is cropped short and his piercings are gone. It's almost unreal to look at him, and he can see Skull sizing him up, probably thinking the same thing. " 'Gene' now, huh?"

"Yeah. Well, really only she calls me that." He shrugs. "And some of the guys at work."

Kimberly reaches out, her fingers ghosting the hair caught on Tommy's earrings. "Do you want me to help you get your hair untangled?"

"Um," Billy says, hovering near. "I'm not so sure Tommy's ready for that. His scalp has proven to be extremely sensitive, and he's going through withdrawal of—"

"We could try," Tommy says, not taking his eyes off Kimberly.

Out of his peripheral vision, he notices Skull and Billy exchange glances, but he doesn't say anything else. He just takes her hand and carefully makes his way to the bathroom with Kimberly.

They don't get in the shower. She brings the chair from his bedroom into the bathroom and tilts it back, washing his hair in the skin. Her fingers are deft and meticulous, and his scalp has healed enough that it doesn't hurt. He doesn't realize she's taken out all his piercings until she sits him up and he looks at his reflection in the mirror.

She gently combs the tangles out of his hair, holding it in a way that doesn't make it hurt at all. They don't speak while she works, but it's surprisingly not awkward.

It doesn't take long until she's able to comb through it easily. Tommy's impressed; he expected to have to cut it all and was putting the inevitable off as long as possible.

When she's done, she towel dries it and smiles at the long strands curling now that the water weight is gone. Tommy stares at his reflection. In the club, his hair has always been filthy with sweat and product. He's never seen it so light and clean before. Without the piercings in his ears, eyebrow and nose, he almost doesn't recognize himself. His black eye has faded, and his skin has cleared up with regular showers. If he saw himself on the street like this, he would never guess the sort of tattoos lurking beneath his sweater.

Still smiling, Kim curls one of the waves around her fingers and pulls it away in a tendril. "You have no idea how jealous I am of your hair right now. I'd have to sleep with curlers in over night to get it to do that!" Laughing softly, she does a few more. "You're really pretty, you know that?"

From her, it actually sounds like a compliment. "Thanks, Kim." He glances at the sink and the small pile of metal piercings she's removed from his face. "Let's see if lunch is ready."

He leaves the jewelry there, and Kimberly, too. He's quite eager to show Billy how good he looks, though he's not really ready to examine why.

When Billy sees Tommy's hair, the expression on his face makes any discomfort from working out the tangles well worth it. It's a great mixture of surprise and delight, and for the first time in a very long time Tommy almost feels attractive. He's exhausted by the time they're finished though, and after modeling briefly, collapses back down on the couch.

"Cleans up pretty nicely, doesn't he?" Kimberly crosses her arms, standing back to proudly admire Tommy.

Billy sits on the couch beside Tommy. "It doesn't even look like the same hair. I'm quite impressed."

Skull takes a few steps closer to Kimberly. "You uh, took out all his piercings." He waves his hand around his face. "Kind of actually looks like Tommy again."

Tommy stares down at his hands. "Never much liked them all anyway."

Billy smiles. "It should be easier to keep your hair looking nice like this without them getting in the way. How're you feeling?"

Tommy shrugs and then presses back into the couch. "All right."

Kimberly settles down on Tommy's other side. "You'll want to use better products than Billy has in there to keep it healthy. I'll bring you some stuff next time I come over. You ought to consider trimming the ends too." She gently tugs one of the curls. "I can do that as well."

Skull shuffles his feet and clears his throat.

Looking up, Tommy feels suddenly strange sitting between Billy and Kim while Skull just stands there and looks awkward. "So, uh. You and Kim, huh?" He can hardly even remember his own relationship with her; it's like it happened to some other Tommy. "When did you two start dating then?"

"Several years ago," Skull confidently says.

Kimberly smiles. "I don't think it's been _that _long. Not consecutively."

Skull shrugs, seeming to diminish in size as he does. "She's not really that keen on the whole . . . you know, commitment thing. Which, yeah. I get it. She's hot and doesn't want to be tied down to . . . you know, someone like me."

"It's not that at all!" Kimberly protests. "I've just been busy."

"Well, I think it's great," Tommy says. "I mean . . . I . . . I remember you two knew each other back in school."

Skull immediately stares at his feet. "Yeah. Well. Didn't exactly get along that well back then."

"Because I was stupid and blind," Kimberly says, getting to her feet. Her hand slides into Skull's and she rests her head against his shoulder.

A little smile ticks the corner of Skull's mouth. "Well, I was fairly obnoxious back then."

"I remember that, too," Tommy says.

He said it simply enough, but it sends all three of the others into chuckles.

Seconds later, Billy's wrist watch chirps out a hauntingly familiar sequence of notes. It sends chills coursing through Tommy.

The way Billy's eyes widen doesn't set Tommy at ease any. Billy doesn't look to him; he looks to Kimberly, who is already untangling herself from Skull.

"Wait, Billy," Tommy says, suddenly terrified they're all going to leave him.

"What was that?" Skull asks.

Kimberly swings around, smiling. "Billy's pager, haha. He must really be needed at work. Perhaps we should get going, too. I just remembered I have a hair appointment I forgot I made."

"Wait, wait," Billy says, getting to his feet. He grabs Kimberly's arm and pulls her aside, but they don't move so far away they can't be heard. "I can't leave Tommy here alone."

The wrist communicator chirps again, making Tommy jump this time.

Kimberly looks incredulous. "You want _me _to stay behind?"

"No, but . . ." Billy puts his hand over his communicator, his eyes darting from Tommy to Skull. The desperation is clear to read in his eyes. "Maybe we can take him with us?"

Tommy digs his fingertips into his thighs; he's such an inconvenience.

Kimberly doesn't reply, just spins around on her heels to face Skull. "Gene, baby. Can you do me a little favor?"

Skull's brows are knit together, but he smiles as she saunters back toward him. "Anything for you, Kim."

"I need to go run a quick errand with Billy, but I promise we'll be back as soon as possible. Can you please stay here and watch Tommy for us?"

"Stay here and . . ." Skull blinks. "What am I now, a babysitter?"

The chirp sounds again. Although it's muffled, it somehow feels more insistent.

Tommy's insides feel like they've being liquefied. "_Billy_."

"I'll be back as soon as possible, I promise." He gives Tommy an apologetic look. "We have to go. Thanks, Skull!" Without giving them any more chance to protest, Billy grabs Kimberly's wrist and drags her out the front door.

"Be careful!" Tommy cries.

Skull stares at the door after it closes. "And here I'd been afraid of her sneaking off to the bathroom alone with _you_! What was that at all about? Where did they run off to together?"

There are too many memories surfacing for Tommy to answer him immediately. He knows Billy's still a Power Ranger, but there's a difference between knowing it and seeing it like this. It's sent his stomach into knots both with worry for the Rangers and from fighting down unpleasant associated memories.

At his silence, Skull looks him over. "You look like you've just seen a ghost. Don't you go to pieces! They've only been gone a few seconds."

Tommy still can't answer. He's playing out what's happening now inside his head—Billy answering the communicator; the pair of them teleporting off together to the Command Center; Zordon debriefing them; the morph. It's another lifetime ago; six lifetimes ago, and yet it's happening _right now_.

Skull's voice changes. "Look, everything is going to be just fine. Billy'll be back in no time. Don't worry. Let's just put your cartoons back on and I'll see if I can't find some popcorn." Grabbing the remote, he turns the television back on.

Instead of the silly animated hijinks from before there's only a Breaking News bulletin. To Tommy's despair, it shows a huge monster stomping through the city. The monster is being attacked by a large red mechanical ape that Tommy recognizes as a zord, though not the one he remembers Jason using.

Is Jason even still a Ranger?

"Another monster attack?" Skull winces. "Well, that's _great_! Just what we need."

Tommy's fingers ball into fists as a black frog zord and a yellow bear zord also take turns attacking the giant menace. Tommy doesn't know _how_, but he knows that those aren't Jason, Zack and Trini. It does nothing to alleviate his nerves.

"Where are the other two?" Skull asks, watching over his shoulder.

On the television, the news anchor says, "Reports still show no sign of the pink and blue Power Rangers. Until they arrive to form the Ninja Megazord, it's unlikely this new threat will be stopped!"

"They should be there by now," Tommy whispers.

Skull eyes him. "They're not usually late. Maybe the bad guys already got to those two?"

It isn't easy, but Tommy takes his eyes off the television to stare at him. The idea that _Skull doesn't know_ has just occurred to him and he wonders _how_. How can Kimberly date him without telling him? How can he not have figured it out?

Although he doesn't exactly remember the morphing sequence or exactly how to call the zords, Tommy knows that Billy and Kim should be there now. Almost as if on cue two more zords arrive on the scene: a blue wolf and a pink crane.

"Yes!" Skull cries out. "They're all right! Go Power Rangers!"

As they watch, the zords begin the transformation sequence into the Ninja Megazord. It's the first time Tommy has seen the Rangers in action in years, and this configuration is totally different. There isn't even a sword; the Ninja Megazord just starts lobbing punches at the monster. It counters with explosive blows from its long vine-like arms. One sends the Ninja Megazord hurling into a building.

It's too much.

They're being pummeled and destroyed and Billy and Kim were late _because of him_ and he can't watch it anymore, not when the risks are so high. "Turn it off." Tommy squeezes his eyes shut, but he can still hear it. "Turn it off. I can't stand anymore." When Skull doesn't make a move to do so, Tommy lunges toward him, grabs the remote and powers it off.

"Hey!" Skull reaches out to steady him. "Calm down. Aren't you worried it'll come this way?"

"They'll lead it out of the city." A wave of vertigo and nausea washes over him and he lays himself back down on the couch. "Just can't watch them fight anymore. Not when it's my fault they're late. Not when they might lose."

He can feel Skull staring at him, but he isn't capable of censoring himself or explaining anything right now. Instead, he throws his arms over his eyes and tries to make the world stop spinning so fast.

In his dreams, he kneels before Goldar in Rita's Dark Dimension and pulls his Dragon Dagger across an unconscious Jason's throat. He stands on the highest building in Angel Grove and laughs maniacally as the Dragonzord demolishes building after building. Rita strokes his cheek with her long, ragged nails and he can taste her sour breath as he smiles up at his Empress.

Skull is brooding at the breakfast table when Tommy jerks awake. The sunlight slanting in through the window is golden now, so Tommy knows it's been hours without having to squint at the digital clock. When Skull finally looks at him, he noticed the strange expression on his face. It's halfway between disbelief and confusion. He wants to say something, but his tongue feels thick in his mouth.

Moments later, he hears voices outside and, as Billy opens the front door, he wonders if he somehow sensed their return and woke up.

Kimberly bounds into the room carrying a pizza box. "We're back! And I thought you might like a treat for being such a good Tommy-sitter."

Although Skull tracks them with his eyes, he doesn't get up from his seat, nor does his expression change. "There are space monsters attacking and you're out buying pizza?"

Kimberly shrugs as Billy walks toward Tommy on the couch. "What?" she says. "The Power Rangers took care of it."

Skull says something else, but Tommy's no longer listening to their conversation. His eyes are on Billy now, studying the lines of his body and the way he moves. He's no longer morphed, but the seriousness in his body is still evident.

"Are you all right?"

Tommy sits up properly. He's not all right, but he doubts that's what Billy really means. "You said Rita was dead." The sunlight is streaming in even stronger now as the sun begins to set, and in his thin sweater, Tommy feels sweaty and trapped.

Billy glances over his shoulder at Kimberly and Skull, who are still arguing about how dangerous going out during an attack was. "She is. It's a new threat. I'll explain later, if you'd like."

The scent of pizza wafts over Tommy, and he closes his eyes. "Skull doesn't know."

"It would seem not."

"I might've . . ." Tommy doesn't know how to finish that sentence. He might've said something that makes Skull suspect. On the other hand, Skull might just have put it together himself. The pieces are all there. He shakes his head. "He should know."

"That he should." Billy smiles. "In due course."

"Billy," Kimberly pleads. "Tell him we didn't even see the monster, will you? He won't stop worrying."

Billy doesn't hesitate. "I'm not going to lie to him. We saw the Power Rangers fighting the monster. Everything was under control. Don't worry." He puts his hands on Skull's back and starts to lead him toward the door. "I appreciate you staying with Tommy very much, but I think all this excitement has worn him out. I'll let you know if I need a sitter again."

Kimberly's a little flabbergasted at being escorted out too, but reacts quickly. "I'll be back next week, Tommy! Keep conditioning your hair!"

"Hey, what about the pizza?" Skull protests as Billy opens the front door.

Tommy doesn't want her to stay, but he doesn't want to see her leave, either. "Bye, Kim. Thanks!"

When they're gone, the house is terribly quiet.

"Is it bad?"

Billy paces slightly. "It might be. Master Vile's returned. You never met him, but he's Rita's father. He's not entirely pleased with our methods of getting rid of her. That was apparently his response to our attempt at negotiations."

Tommy stares at his hands on his knees. "Seems so unreal."

"We're going to have to come up with a better plan for you next time. I can't just have Skull watch you. It'll get too suspicious."

Tommy's well into his twenties and feels like the biggest burden ever. "Could just leave me alone."

"Or bring you to the Command Center. You'd be safe there."

The thought makes Tommy's skin crawl. "No."

"I didn't think you'd like it." Billy pinches the bridge of his nose. When he looks at Tommy again, he smiles. "You really do look better with your hair washed and curled."

"She didn't curl it." He self-consciously reaches up and pulls it all over his shoulder. "Just happens naturally sometimes."

"Well, it's nice."

Inside, Tommy's pleased, but he keeps his face expressionless. "Thanks."

"I'd like to get you seen by a doctor sometime next week, if you're up for it."

Tommy pulls one of the throw pillows into his lap and hugs it.

"It'll just be a general physical check up. You have nothing to worry about."

The thought is frightening, but Billy knows best and he nods. "All right."

"I'd also like you to talk to a therapist someday. It doesn't have to be until you're recovered, but I want you to be thinking about it."

Tommy cringes. His gut reaction is to reject the notion. He can't even think about most of the past without triggering some dark emotional flashback. Telling it to a stranger feels impossible. How would anyone ever be able to understand his addiction to the club or the tattoos on his body, let alone his former loyalty to Rita as the Green Ranger? "I can't." Tommy shakes his head. "Secret identity."

Billy's eyes narrow. "You leave that to me. I've got quite a few things I've been meaning to discuss with Zordon."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter seven:**

The list of things Tommy doesn't want to do far outweigh the ones he does. He likes to sleep. He likes to eat. He likes to shower. He doesn't want to go to the doctor and he definitely doesn't want to visit a therapist. He has no interest in even going outside. It's not as bad during the daytime, but at night he hallucinates and dreams horrid things—even with the lights on. He knows it's stressing Billy, but he finds it hard to care; he didn't ask to be rescued.

That all changes when he opens the door to Billy's pantry and notices how barren it is.

"Looks like it's time to go grocery shopping."

Billy's sitting at his computer in the dining room, wearing his number crunching face. "All the food for the next week is prepared and in the freezer." He doesn't look up from the work he's doing.

"But what about snacks? I'm just in the mood for some chips or something."

"I can't afford snacks." Billy finally looks at him through the archway leading from the living room to the dining room. "If you're hungry, I'll heat something up."

Tommy's confused. He closes the pantry door and presses his back to it. "What do you mean you can't afford it? Chips are like fifty cents."

When Billy speaks, he does so matter-of-factly without a hint of accusation in his voice. "I put nearly a thousand dollars on my credit card over the last few weeks, and I've had to take the last week off of work. I don't make enough to immediately pay all that off along with my regular bills. Money is going to be tight for a while." He goes back to his computer. "You need to be eating healthier food anyway."

Tommy stares at his feet. It makes him feel a little dizzy, but the pantry door is solid and supports him. He's been here a week and has already cost Billy so much. Billy has to stay home to take care of Tommy, and now he's got to buy enough food for the both of them on his meager salary.

It's not fair.

At dinner that night, Tommy makes a decision. "That friend you mentioned the other day, about coming over to watch me while you're at work?"

Billy's suitably surprised. "Rocky?"

"Yeah." Tommy feels his mouth trying to smile. "Funny name. Anyway, I was thinking . . . maybe it won't be so bad to at least try it."

Tommy knows agreeing to this means Billy could finally go to back to work, but he doesn't leap on the opportunity, instead saying, "Are you sure? I don't want to leave you alone with a stranger if you're not ready."

"You said he's a Ranger, right? So, he can't be too much of a stranger. I'm sure it'll be fine." He shrugs. "Besides, I'll probably just sleep all day anyway."

When Rocky arrives the next morning, Tommy starts to have doubts.

He's more concerned about being alone with a strange guy than he anticipated, and for all his bright smiles and laughter, Rocky's looks remind him more than a little of some of the gay men who came into the clubs to grope or call at him.

"I'm only twenty minutes away, so don't hesitate to call me if you need anything." Billy looks from Rocky to Tommy. "That goes for you, too. All right? Promise me?"

Tommy can't help but feel like a little kid. "I promise."

"I really appreciate this, Rocky. I owe you one."

"It's no problem, man! Any friend of yours is a friend of mine!"

Soon, Billy's gone and Tommy's standing awkwardly in the middle of Billy's living room with someone who encompasses the very picture of a dumb surfer. He can't remember ever being in a weirder situation, and given his last six years, that's saying something.

"So, you play a lot of video games?" Rocky asks, going right for Billy's gaming console—a fancier version of the Nintendos that Tommy remembers of his youth—called PlayStation.

"Not really." But Tommy sits on the floor beside him and takes one of the controllers when Rocky loads up a fighting game. He's spent the last five years quite cut off from the world, and certainly video games, and quite promptly gets his digital ass handed to him.

"So, Billy says you used to be a Ranger?" Rocky doesn't look away from the screen, and his tone remains completely conversational.

If Billy were here, Tommy knows he'd chastise Rocky for mentioning the Power Rangers. He's surprised Billy even told Rocky. "Yeah." He runs a hand into his curls. "It's weird talking about that with . . . well, I mean, you're a Ranger too, but I just met you."

"Yeah." Rocky grins at him. "It is weird, isn't it?"

Rocky isn't like Billy and certainly isn't like Tommy. Being a Ranger did something to Tommy, and it wasn't something good. It wasn't so bad for Billy, but Tommy can tell it took its toll on him as well. Rocky's light, though. His smile isn't forced or insincere. He's been through a war and he's still happy and bright. On the television, Rocky beats Tommy's character up again.

And he plays a mean fighting game. Tommy scowls. "Man, I can't even figure out how to get this thing to jump!"

"You mean you've really never played this before? Oh man! I thought you were just joking! Here, let me give you a quick tutorial, then."

Tommy's pretty sure Rocky lets him win some of the next few matches, but he doesn't mind. Rocky does it gracefully, and the game really is a lot more fun when Rocky's taking it more easily.

After an hour, Rocky gets up and starts pulling the cushions off the couch.

"What're you doing?" He knows they can go back into place easily, but he can too easily imagine the shocked expression on Billy's face when he walks through the door.

"I hate sitting on carpet." Rocky climbs onto one of the cushions. "That's better."

Tommy isn't sure why Rocky doesn't just sit on the couch, but it's sort of silly and fun, so he climbs onto one of the other cushions himself. He has to admit, it is a lot more comfortable.

At lunchtime, Billy calls to check up on him. Tommy's a little embarrassed at how relieved Billy sounds upon finding out things are fine. He proceeds to walk Rocky through preheating the oven and preparing lunch and acts surprised how little help Rocky needs.

When they get engrossed in video games again and burn it, Tommy doesn't say anything when Rocky decides to hop in his car and pick up sandwiches. He's only gone about twenty minutes, but being alone in Billy's house is even stranger than being there with Rocky. He realizes it's the first time he's been alone since Billy rescued him from his apartment.

They don't put the couch back together to eat their sandwiches. Instead, Rocky drags some of the dining room chairs into the living room, puts a few cushions over them and the couch and then covers the whole thing with a sheet. They eat their sandwiches in the pillow fort while watching old cartoons from the 70s.

Rocky's lying on a cushion on his back, watching TV upside-down as he finishes his chips when Tommy decides he likes him. He's just _fun_; not at all what he expected.

"So, what do you do when you're not fighting space aliens or babysitting Billy's wayward friends?"

"Oh, not a lot, really." Rocky rolls onto his side. "I've got this dojo I teach classes in, but it isn't doing very well."

"You run a dojo?" Tommy blinks a few times. "That's really cool."

"Yeah. I used to think so, but the economy and all has been so bad since the war . . . Adam's actually hoping the new attacks will inspire more kids to want to be Power Rangers."

"Oh, I'm sure they will. Jason and I ran a couple of karate classes back at Angel Grove. They were always super popular because of the Power Rangers."

"You do martial arts, too?"

Tommy's vision blurs. "I used to."

"Why'd you stop?"

That's the sort of question that requires a ten page explanation or none at all. "Just, you know. Stuff."

"You must've been pretty good though, if you were teaching classes with Jason."

Tommy refocuses, tilting his head. "You knew Jase?"

"Oh yeah. Of course. We met a couple times before he left for Switzerland. I'm the one who took over his power, you know, so it's sort of like we've got this connection . . . and then of course he came back as the Gold Ranger during the war."

"He did?" Tommy blinks. "I didn't know that." Something about it sits strangely inside him. "Gold Ranger, huh?"

"You didn't know that?"

"I . . . haven't paid much attention to the news."

"I'll say!"

"Where is he now? I didn't see him on TV the other day when the news covered the attack."

"Oh, he's retired now. He and Zack live up north somewhere."

"So that makes you the leader?"

Rocky stares at him. "Me? What, no! Just cause I wear Jason's old color? No, the leader's Billy, of course. He likes to say he's not or at least that he and Kim are equally in charge, but we all know he's the best leader out of all of us. Man, the number of times his inventions have saved us . . ."

Tommy knows all of this discussion is going to give him more nightmares, and yet he can't seem to stop asking questions. It's strange; he's never felt compelled to ask them of Billy. "Billy's changed so much since I knew him . . ."

"Yeah, hasn't he? I mean, I met him a while after you, but he was a super nerd back then. He's still really smart, but a lot easier to understand now, huh?"

"Yeah."

"There was a while there I thought only Adam'd be able to understand him."

"Adam. You mentioned him before. He's another Ranger?"

"Oh, yeah. He's my partner and helps me run the dojo sometimes. He took over Zack's powers."

It's strange to think that the people he saw on TV the other day weren't his old friends. "It's so weird talking about all this stuff after so long."

"Yeah. I like it though. Zordon doesn't let us tell anyone, so I've always got to keep it secret. It's nice to open up, even if it is with a former Ranger."

Lying down on the cushions, Tommy suppresses a yawn. "What about Trini? Who took over for her?"

"That's our friend Aisha. We all went to Stone Canyon High together but transferred over to Angel Grove once we got the powers."

"I missed all of that." His eyes droop.

"Hey, you're supposed to take your medicine before you fall asleep." Rocky scrambles out of the pillow fort, threatening its integrity. He returns a short while later with a small plastic bag labeled neatly in Billy's handwriting. Inside are all of Tommy's pills. "Here you go. And a big glass of water."

Tommy sits up to take them, settling back down on all of the cushions. It feels so strangely safe and warm under the sheet in the middle of the living room. "You know what? You're all right, Rocky."

Rocky beams at him. "I like you, too."

Tommy's asleep when Billy comes home, but he knows that Billy's impressed with how Rocky handled the day. Rocky's not off-put by Tommy's strange behaviors. He has fun like a kid, but is responsible enough to be trusted. And, after an initial period of misgiving, Tommy warmed right up to him.

With business in Rocky's dojo so poor, it's something of a perfect solution to allow Billy to return to work without risking leaving Tommy alone for hours on end. Tommy likes it, too. Billy is fun, but he worries too much. When Rocky decides they _have _to have ice cream _now_, Tommy sits patiently in the living room, waiting for him to return.

And since Rocky doesn't know what's wrong with him, Tommy doesn't act out to burden him.

He doesn't want to burden Billy, either, but it's different with him. Billy knew what he was getting into, and Billy can handle it. There are times when Rocky comes over, boredom and loneliness rolling off him, that Tommy feels like he's the one babysitting Rocky.

"Adam works all day," Rocky explains one day, "and does night classes all night." He's playing Tetris upside-down as he hangs off the edge of the couch. "Not that I'm complaining. He's making all the money and working hard so he can get a better job making more, but I hardly ever see him." He grins as he clears a particularly impressive number of lines. "Just means I'm bored and lonely a lot."

"I thought you ran a dojo?"

"Oh, well, yeah. I teach classes Tuesday and Thursday nights, and a couple times on Saturday. It's not really a big money maker though, and the classes have been getting progressively smaller. Adam's supposed to teach with me, but he doesn't have the time. So even when I'm there, doing something I love, it's like . . . I'm still alone. You know?"

"Yeah."

"What about you?" Rocky doesn't take his eyes off the television.

"I don't work."

"Not ever?" He lets out a grunt as one of the pieces falls in the wrong spot.

"I . . . used to dance." Tommy stares at his hands in his lap.

"Really?" Rocky glances over at him quickly. "Wouldn't've taken you for the dancing type."

"I don't think I was very good at it."

"So you're not going to go back to it when you get better?"

If laughter didn't elude Tommy so much these days, he would have laughed. "No. Those days are hopefully behind me."

Grumbling as he messes up again, Rocky rolls off the couch and onto the floor, right-side up, so he can control the Tetris pieces better. "What're you gonna do then?"

Tommy shrugs. "I . . . haven't really thought about it." He scratches at his scalp. "I'd actually once thought about . . ."

"About what?" Rocky gives him another glance.

"It's going to come out wrong because of what you were just saying."

"What? No it won't!" When Rocky's not looking, the pieces stack up to the top of the screen. "Ah, hell." He tosses the controller down. "You can tell me!"

"Well. I'd actually thought about opening a karate school myself, when I was a kid."

"You totally should!"

"Yours doesn't seem to be doing so well, though."

"That's true." Rocky shrugs. "But I think it's just because I'm not a very good teacher. Anyway, with the Power Rangers more active, I bet business will pick up again!"

Tommy stares at the television. "Well, I'm out of practice, anyway."

"You could always pick that back up again! What level were you?"

"Third degree black belt, actually."

"That stuff is totally in your muscle memory, then! Dude, Tommy, we should totally spar sometime! I bet I could get you back into shape in no time."

Tommy's immediate reaction is to shut down. It has way too many negative associations. "Billy wouldn't like that."

"Sure he would! It's great exercise and it'd be a lot of fun. Hey, you could come over while Adam's in class. That'd probably give Billy some extra time to work on the zords, too. He keeps putting it off, and I know Zordon's not happy about that."

"Really?"

"Yeah. He's got Alpha working on them in the meantime, but there are just some things that Billy really needs to be there for, I guess."

The thought of practicing martial arts again quickens Tommy's pulse and a cold sweat breaks out along his back. The idea doesn't just unsettle him and make his anxieties flare—it terrifies him. It's too close to being a Ranger again. It's too close to Rita and his dark past. Despite the anxiety of not knowing what being in a dojo again will do to him, the thought of finding a way to get out of Billy's hair for a little longer does appeal enough to override some of the initial terror. He knows it's not the same; that it will be safe with Rocky. And he knows it'd make Rocky happy, and a little less lonely as well. "Well. Maybe once. Just to see what it's like."

"All right! This is going to be awesome!"

Tommy clenches his teeth, swallows down his fear and hopes he doesn't prove Rocky horribly wrong.

Billy doesn't love the idea, but not even he can find a fault with letting Rocky extend his Tommy-sitting hours into the evening so Billy can work on the zords.

The dojo isn't anything fancy like Tommy had imagined. It's just a store in a strip mall with all the furniture removed. The walls are mirrored, the windows are tinted and the floor is covered in mats. There's an office and a bathroom and a big, empty parking lot.

Tommy scratches at the collar of his sweater. "I didn't really have anything appropriate to wear."

"No problem." Rocky bounces on his toes a little and pulls his tank top off. "I wear a _gi _when I've got students, but I'm usually shirtless when I work out alone."

Tommy doubts very much that Rocky would want to see him shirtless. "I . . . I think I'll try it like this, for now." He drops into a ready position.

"We should warm up with a kata. Do you remember any?"

Closing his eyes, Tommy thinks back. It's hard to skip over the last six years of his life, but once he does his body starts to move accordingly. The positions really are locked into his muscle memory, and, he realizes, so is the mindset. There's no Mack or Cat's Beard or cocaine or Rangers or Rita in a kata. There's just the exhalation of breath, the strike and the glide into the next position.

When he stops, he opens his eyes and finds Rocky staring at him, eyebrows raised. "You really haven't done that in six years?"

Tommy pulls his hair off his sweaty neck. "Something like that."

"I can already tell this is going to be a lot of fun."

Rocky doesn't fight him immediately. His goal isn't to show Tommy how much better he is at this. Instead, he tests Tommy, judging his skill and strength and stamina. After only twenty minutes, Tommy is dripping sweat and breathing hard.

"Let's take a break," Rocky says, disappearing into the back office only to return moments later with two cups of water.

"Thanks, man." Tommy drinks for a long time. "I had no idea just how out of shape I was." His entire body screams for a bit of coke. There's no doubt in his mind that if he took a little right now, he'd be able to give Rocky something of a run around.

"Yeah, but there's some real skill there, too. You'll get the endurance back in no time."

Tommy doesn't question Rocky's absolutes. He only intended to visit his dojo the once, but now he's not so sure. "I just need another five minutes, then we can train a little more."

"Sure! Take your time!"

It's even hotter just sitting there. He can feel the sweat forming in his hair, connecting into heavier drops that streak down his back in rivulets. It's itchy under the sweater and claustrophobic. When he stands up a few minutes later, Tommy pulls his sweater halfway off before he realizes just what he's doing.

He stops, but Rocky says, "You can put it in the office if you want."

Completing the motion, Tommy pulls the sweater off, but just stands there holding it. He watches Rocky's eyes they sweep over the tattoos and nipple piercings, but his expression doesn't change. He just drops into a starting pose and begins his own kata.

It's much cooler without the sweater on.

Tommy folds it up, puts it in the office, and spends the next twenty minutes lightly sparring with Rocky.

That night, he tells Billy about his day over dinner and then crawls into bed just after nine o'clock, exhausted. Billy tries to talk to him for a bit, but he's out within minutes without even a second thought for his sleeping pills.

Though Tommy didn't expect to, he goes back to Rocky's dojo several times. There's something strangely comforting about it, and he definitely sleeps better after having worked out. Part of him suspects that he goes just to give Billy his space, but the rest of him knows he really does enjoy working out, even if it brings back the occasional bad memory. Very little these days doesn't.

"Look, I got you your very own _gi_!" Rocky hands a neatly folded up pile of clothes to Tommy. "You ought to be a lot cooler wearing that."

"Whoa, thanks! That's really awesome of you."

"Hey, it's no problem. That's what friends are for, right?"

Money has been so tight with Billy lately that Tommy hasn't asked for anything, even though he'd like some elastic ties to hold back his hair and something more appropriate to train in than jeans or pajama boxers. In the back office, Tommy changes into the _gi _pants and does an experimental kick. It feels really good; like putting on an old, familiar skin. The crisp white color doesn't have any bad associations, either, which is also refreshing.

When he pulls on the _gi_ jacket, he frowns. Even without tying the first side down, he can tell his shoulders are too broad for it. He tries anyway, but the result is comical and uncomfortable. Sighing, he takes it off and folds it back up. He's about to take it out to Rocky when he notices a small container full of rubber bands on the desk. Figuring it'll be okay to take just one, he pulls his hair back into a ponytail, wincing as the rubber coils and pulls his hair.

Leaving his regular clothes behind, Tommy returns to the dojo where Rocky is warming up. "I'm really sorry about this, but the jacket is too small."

"Hey, no reason to apologize for that! I should have known better. Let me see what size it is. We have a ton at the house, so I can get you a bigger one with no problem."

Tommy hands it over, and then finds his feet gliding over the mats, feeling the energy of the room. The _gi _pants help his mentality so much. It's like they want to do the kata with or without him.

Rocky throws the jacket over his shoulder. "Let me run back to my place real quick. I know we've got a bigger size. I'll be right back."

"Oh. Sure." Tommy blinks once, knowing Billy would especially not like the idea of Rocky leaving him alone in the dojo. Tommy decides not to think about it. He's here to warm up, and by the time Rocky returns, he wants to be ready.

It's much easier to do with his long hair out of his face, wearing much more comfortable pants. Although he doesn't sleep well and he sometimes still has hallucinations, Tommy can already tell his stamina is beginning to return. After twenty minutes of warming up, he's sweaty and out of breath, but doesn't feel like he's about to pass out.

He finishes up just as he hears Rocky returning through the front door.

"What the fuck is this?"

The voice is not Rocky's, and Tommy spins around in alarm. "Who're you?"

"_You're_ asking _me _that?" The man's eyes sweep over Tommy, reading the tattoos. "Jesus Christ. How did you get in here? Where the hell is Rocky?"

Suddenly self-conscious, Tommy crosses his arms ineffectually over his chest. "I'm . . . I'm a friend of Rocky's, he just . . . he just went to get me a—" Tommy trails off as the man stalks closer. He's fit and attractive and even though he's supposed to be in night classes right now, Tommy can guess this is the co-owner of the dojo, Rocky's partner Adam.

"What kind of sick fuck are you? Are you some sort of prostitute? Get the hell out of my dojo."

Tommy's mouth opens, but words have suddenly escaped him. His hackles have raised; all he wants to do is ameliorate the situation, and the easiest way to do that is to run. He starts for the door, and Adam spies the rest of his tattoos along his back. There's a particularly large one somewhat dedicated to the Power Rangers there.

"Are you _stalking _us?" Adam matches Tommy's speed toward the door.

"I don't want any trouble!" Tommy puts his hands up. "I'm a friend of Rocky's, I swear."

"Rocky doesn't need friends with 'cocksucker' and 'whore' tattooed on their chests. Kids come to train at this establishment! We don't want any cracked out druggies here!"

"I'm not on drugs."

"That's why you've got eight-balls tattooed all along your arm, yeah?"

Tommy rubs them. "I'm not on drugs _anymore_. I use . . . I used to be a dancer and a user, but . . . I'm not anymore. Look, my shirt is in the back, let me just . . ."

"Like I'm going to fucking let a crazy crack whore like you into my back office? You're lucky I'm not on the phone with the cops right now." He glances around, his brow furrowing. "Rocky!" His eyes narrow.

"I told you, he went to get me a bigger _gi _jacket."

"Yeah? Or maybe I _should _call the cops, huh? Rocky!"

It's with immense relief that Tommy sees Rocky pull into the parking lot a few seconds later. "Look, there he is." He feels his whole body starting to shiver and hugs himself. The adrenaline he amassed has dissipated; he's starting to crash.

Adam's eyes widen. "Rocky!"

Breaking into a jog, Rocky catches up with them. "Adam! What're you doing—hey, Tommy, what's wrong?"

His entrance into the dojo is barred by Adam's strong arm. "You _know _this guy!"

"Yeah. This is Tommy. I told you I was helping him out, remember?"

Adam's jaw goes slack. "You mentioned you were helping Billy's friend, not that he's some crack whore!"

Rocky struggles against Adam's arm. "Let me go! Something's wrong with him."

Adam doesn't, but Rocky eventually breaks free anyway.

All Tommy's aware of are Rocky's big, warm hands on his clammy, bare flesh. He doesn't remember walking, but suddenly there's a chair beneath him and he's sitting, teeth chattering. Rocky drapes the _gi _jacket over his shoulders, and Tommy realizes they're in the back office.

Adam's on the big black phone and Tommy doesn't need to listen to the conversation to know he's bitching Billy out. It's enough to make Tommy sick, but he only manages to dry heave a little.

"I'm really sorry," Rocky says, sounding absolutely miserable. "I had no idea he'd react this way."

Though he appeared not to be paying attention, Adam covers the mouthpiece of the phone and stares at Rocky. "He's a _crack whore_! In my dojo! With _whore _tattooed on his chest in giant black letters, as if you couldn't tell, where anyone could see. We have _children _who come here, Rocky! And their _parents_! Do you want us to _never _work again? What were you thinking? No. Don't answer that; you never think." He turns his attention back to the phone. "As for _you_, the hell have you been thinking letting Rocky spend so much time alone with this guy!"

Rocky frowns. "But he was a _Ranger_."

Adam's eyes widen. "The evil one, Rocky! The evil green one!"

"I should go." Tommy tries to get to his feet and manages to do so by clinging to the door. He can tell Rocky's torn between going after him and staying with Adam, and that suits him just fine. He gets out into the dojo, stumbling over the mats, and just hopes he can make it outside. He can't breathe and his eyes are blurring up with water.

"Tommy, wait!"

The exit is so, so far away. Tommy knows he'll never make it.

"—were you thinking, letting him come to a place where you _know _we train kids and . . . hello? Billy? Hello?"

Tommy stumbles once, and then there's a brilliant flash of dazzling blue light and Billy's standing there. Tommy doesn't mean to do it, but his momentum takes him right into Billy's arms, where he all but collapses.

Billy's knees nearly buckle from the weight, but he braces himself and manages to hold Tommy up. "It's all right."

"Jesus, Billy!" Adam cries, voice coming out of the back office. "Those are windows! Anyone could've just seen you do that!"

"Does it appear I care?"

Billy's voice is so cold and flat Tommy wants to recoil from him, and yet it's so serious and authoratative he finds it strangely appealing.

"I can't believe you're actually . . . defending this guy."

Rocky comes up from behind. "He's my _friend_!"

"Stay out of this, Rocky."

"No! I won't! This is my fault. I left Tommy alone in the dojo to get him a bigger _gi_, even though Billy told me never to leave him alone. I had no idea you'd overreact like this!"

"I'm _not _overreacting! Do you know how much shit we could be in if one of our students had come here with their parents?"

"But they _didn't_. Jeez, Adam. It was an accident! No one is hurt."

"The guy has '_cocksucker_' tattooed across his chest!"

"You've never had a problem with cocksuckers before!"

"Enough!" Billy's still holding Tommy, and the word reverberates through him. "I'll sort this out in the morning. Right now, I need to get Tommy home. Rocky, I'm sorry for the trouble. Adam, I'm . . . I'm disappointed in you."

"In _me_? Maybe I should go suck some cock for blow, would that make you respect me more?"

Billy doesn't answer him, standing silently for several long, painful seconds. Then, without taking his arms from around Tommy, he hits his wrist communicator and they teleport out.

Tommy sits in Billy's big easy chair, wrapped in a fleece blanket, and stares at his uncut toenails. Billy appears and presses a warm mug of something into his numb hands. Seconds tick loudly from the clock on the entertainment system.

"Adam was completely out of line."

Tommy can't see Billy, but he can hear him pacing. The mug is starting to warm his hands, but he doesn't sip from it.

"I should have told him about you. I _did _tell him about you. I just didn't go into details. I didn't . . . I didn't think he had the right to know." He sighs. "I didn't want him to judge you."

In the calm, quiet safety of Billy's house, Tommy's not as upset as he thought he'd be. It's only thinking of Rocky that really bothers him now. "I'll miss him."

"You'll . . . what?"

"Rocky."

Billy appears again, or at least his feet do, right in front of Tommy's. Billy's toenails are neatly trimmed and clean. "You'll see Rocky again, I promise. Adam's going to get over this."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter eight:**

It takes hours for Billy to calm Tommy down, and he manages only by giving him sleeping pills and sitting up in bed with him until he finally falls asleep. By then, Billy's own evening is shot. His mind replays the scene over and over, but he doesn't know how to confront Adam about any of it. Weary, Billy forgoes a shower and barely manages to crawl into his own bed before passing out.

He wakes with his alarm, sore and groggy and already in a foul mood. He can hear the television on in the living room, which means that despite the sleeping pills, Tommy's awake before him. He washes his face and brushes his teeth before pulling on clean clothes and giving his day over to Tommy again.

Although he's awake, Billy can tell Tommy's not all there.

His eyes are on the TV, but he's not watching it. There are wet spots on his cheeks, and it's not hard to tell that Tommy only stopped crying when he heard Billy's alarm. He's still wearing the _gi _pants from the night before and is shirtless, save for the fleece blanket which he's pulled around his shoulders. His hair is a wreck.

Billy remembers it was pulled into a ponytail last night, but he didn't realize that Tommy'd done so with a common household rubber band. During the night, it tangled itself more and more into Tommy's locks, coiling around curls and pulling.

Taking a deep breath, Billy ignores Tommy for the moment. He's no use to anyone before he's had his coffee, and he stands in the kitchen watching the machine percolate for five full minutes. He drinks his first cup down black and nearly scalding hot, but feels almost instantly better.

Fetching scissors, he returns to the living room. "That's got to be hurting your scalp."

Tommy turns big, watery brown eyes at him. "I'm sorry."

Billy gently kneels on the couch, trying to figure out how to tackle the tangle of hair and rubber. "What for?"

"Screwed up. Ruined last night."

"That was hardly your fault. Adam overreacted."

"He's right, though."

"No, he's not. Adam doesn't know anything. Believe me, I will make him apologize."

Tommy closes his eyes. "No. No more trouble."

"Shh. Try not to worry." Billy very gently lifts some of Tommy's hair, hoping he can slip the scissors in to snip the rubber.

It's fine for approximately two seconds, and then Tommy hisses and violently jerks away.

He doesn't complain, but Billy knows it hurt him. He knows Tommy's extremely sensitive about his scalp. "I'm sorry. I've got to cut it out. It's just going to continue to hurt if I don't."

Tommy pulls the blanket tighter around him and rocks very gently in place.

Billy puts a hand to his brow. He's got to be at work in less than an hour and he's kneeling here trying to coax Tommy into letting him cut a rubber band out of his hair. "What am I even thinking? Adam's never going to let Rocky come over today. Just sit tight." Leaving Tommy there, he goes back into the kitchen and picks up the phone.

"Hello, June? Yeah. It's Billy. I really hate to do this on such short notice, but, uh, I don't think I'm going to be able to make it into work this morning. Yes. I'm . . . yes, I'm well aware of that. It's a bit of an emergency or else I wouldn't. I will try to make it in later. Thank you." He hangs up, pours himself another cup of coffee and leans against the arch leading from the kitchen to the living room. "Maybe a shower would help?"

Tommy doesn't answer him. His attention has finally been drawn by the television. Eager to know what Tommy might enjoy watching, Billy crosses into the room again so he can see. The Breaking News bulletin cutting through the early morning cartoons makes his blood go cold. On the screen is shaky handheld video of a monster terrorizing some joggers in Angel Grove Park. "Shit."

Tommy turns his eyes, wide and imploring, toward him.

Almost as soon as Billy sets his mug of coffee down his wrist communicator goes off. "Billy here. I'm aware of the situation. This could not come at a more inopportune time."

Zordon is the one who replies to him. "The timing is unfortunate, but I am afraid this cannot wait. None of the other Rangers have responded to my summons."

"I've got to find someone to sit with Tommy."

"I'm afraid there is no time! Master Vile's newest creation is targeting innocent people in Angel Grove Park. He must be stopped immediately."

Gritting his teeth, Billy meets Tommy's eyes. Determination and steel flood his system. "There's no other choice."

Tommy's eyes suddenly widen. "No. No, Billy! Please!"

"I'm sorry." He snaps himself entirely into Ranger mode. Without giving himself a chance to reconsider or for Tommy to try and get away, Billy grips Tommy's shoulder and teleports them both to the Command Center.

Terrified, Tommy collapses to the ground instantly.

Billy resolutely doesn't look at him. "Alpha, I need you to take Tommy to the auxiliary turbo chamber and keep an eye on him. Whatever you do, _don't let him leave_ the Command Center."

"Ai-yi-yi-yi-yi! _Tommy_!"

"Alpha! Do you understand me?"

"Oh, yes, Billy! Ohh, hurry!"

Zordon's voice booms, "I have good news! Kimberly and Aisha have just engaged the monster. I will send the others to help you as soon as possible."

"Right." He grabs his morpher, then winces and stops. Even after steeling himself for battle, Billy can't just _leave_. Turning around, he drops to one knee in front of Tommy. "I'll be back as soon as possible, I promise. Be strong."

Tommy opens his mouth, terror in his eyes, but nothing comes out.

Swallowing down his uncertainty, Billy stands back up. He can't stay any longer. "It's morphing time!"

Kimberly and Aisha are both taking heavy hits by the time Billy arrives.

"Am I glad to see you!" Aisha calls.

Kimberly makes her way to him. "Where're the others?"

"I'm sure they'll be here soon." After what happened last night, he can only hope that's true.

"Oh, look!" the monster calls. "Another little Ranger for me to play with!"

Before Billy can do anything, the monster shoots out electrical charges that hit all three of them, sending them to the ground.

Billy clutches his chest. "I can tell we're going to need some heavier artillery to defeat this guy."

"Let me at him!" Aisha leaps into the air, the Power Daggers in her hand. She makes contact in a shower of sparks, but the monster bats her away as if unfazed.

"Let's try a concentrated beam with the blade blasters!" Billy pulls his off his belt and snaps it into firing position. "Concentrate the beam on the upper torso!"

"Right!"

The monster laughs. "Three against one is hardly fair!" Dodging to one side, the monster escapes the blaster beams and charges right toward Kimberly, grabbing her in a choke hold around her neck.

"Kimberly!" Billy reaches out toward her, ineffectively.

"Hiyaa!"

The monster goes flailing to the ground as Rocky and Adam appear, each planting a kick to the monster's gut at the same time.

"Am I glad to see you two!" Kimberly says, rubbing her throat. "What took so long?"

"Just a little miscommunication." Rocky kneels beside her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so." She stands back up with his help.

Together, the five of them regroup to face the monster.

Adam takes a bold step forward before Billy can say anything. "You couldn't have picked a worse time to attack Angel Grove! I'm gonna make you sorry!"

"Oh, I'm so scared!"

"I'm gonna take you down!"

"Adam, wait!" Billy starts toward him, but is too late to stop Adam from hurling himself at the monster.

It deflects him as easily as it deflected all of their earlier attacks, then follows up by sending electrical charges at him.

"Hey! Get off him!" Rocky leaps at the monster, his Power Sword drawn. The force of the impact is enough to get the monster to fall back, breaking off the attack on Adam.

Seeing an opening, Billy calls, "Let's bring them together, guys!"

Rocky doesn't stop his attack. His blows aren't particularly destructive, but they're fast and strong and he soon has the monster down on one knee while he wails away.

"Rocky!" Aisha shouts.

Cackling, the monster shouts, "Enough!" It explodes with a huge electrical force field, sending not only Rocky, but all of them, flying.

Adam recovers first, making his way to Rocky. "Do you want to get yourself killed!"

"I was trying to protect you!"

"By getting _yourself _killed? Oh yeah, _that's _helpful! Why don't you ever think before you act?"

"But it's okay for _you _to do it? I can't believe I'm risking my life to save you and you say _that_!"

"Guys!" Aisha calls, stepping between them. "Stop fighting!"

Adam pushes her aside. "Stay out of this!"

Laughing, the monster says, "Looks like I hardly need to do anything at all to speed up this self-destruction."

Billy puts his hand out, hoping to distract all of them; there will be time to sort out their problems later. "Quick, guys, focus! We need the Power Blaster!"

"You're too late for that!" The monster cackles again, and suddenly it's growing in size, the force of the enlargement knocking them all back.

"Oh man!"

Adam finally focuses on something other than Rocky and stares at Billy. "I hope you haven't spent all your time fucking that crack whore and got our zords reconfigured!"

Billy's never actually been _so angry_ that he's seen red before, but in that moment, he does, and the fragment of rational Billy still functioning beneath that fury is quite certain he could kill Adam before any of the rest could stop him.

"Adam!" Aisha cries, shocked.

The monster takes a massive step forward, aiming to crush them.

Seeing that no one else is going to, Kimberly calls, "We need Ninjazord power, now!"

The motions come to Billy without thinking and he logs onto the Blue Wolf on autopilot. He doesn't notice the other's logging in around him, save for Kimberly overhead, powering up the Pink Crane.

"What's going on, Billy? Why's Adam so mad?"

"He met Tommy last night, in one of the least optimal manners possible."

"Who's Tommy?" Aisha's suddenly to Billy's left, Yellow Bear rising to its hind legs to roar at the monster.

Billy clears his head. "I'll explain everything later. Right now, we've got business to take care of!"

"The Bear is ready to rock!"

"And the Crane is ready to roll!"

With the Crane distracting the monster from above, and the Bear attacking straight on, Billy swiftly guides the Wolf around behind the monster for a sneak attack. He leaps forward, sinking his zord's teeth into the monster's thick tail. Crying out in surprise, the monster rears back, trying to swat the Wolf, which gives the Bear a perfect opening for a devastating double claw attack.

As soon as Aisha finishes her attack, the Bear pounds the ground hard, causing a tremor big enough to knock the monster on its back. Kimberly swoops in seconds later, unloading a volley of shots from the Crane's artillery into the monster.

Billy's about to swing the Wolf around to do a slash attack with his tail when the Red Ape is suddenly there, swords in hand. "I got this!" Rocky calls, and as the monster starts to stand up, he does a spin, hitting the monster several times with both swords.

Checking to see that Adam's arrived in his Black Frog, Billy wastes no time in pulling the control for the Ninja Megazord. They still might not be able to form the Ninja Mega Eaglezord, but Billy's hoping it won't matter.

Whatever kept Adam and Rocky from immediately powering up their zords seems to have passed, as they quickly fall into place to combine into the Ninja Megazord.

"All right!" Rocky says, taking control. "Let's finish this guy off and get back to our day!"

It takes almost no time at all from that moment. The monster has barely gotten back to its feet before Billy engages the Power Punch, and soon the Wolf and Ape are pummeling the monster into submission. It explodes into a stream of sparks and when the dust clears, the Ninja Megazord stands alone in the park.

Back in the Command Center, everyone starts talking at once.

"C'mon, Adam, what was with you back there?" Aisha starts. "I have _never _heard you like that before!"

"We can't keep bringing our personal problems into monster battles," Kimberly says.

"I don't need you all breathing down my neck like a bunch of babysitters!" Adam shouts.

Rocky's keeping his distance. "It's just a private matter we can take care of later."

Billy doesn't care about any of them. He manhandles Alpha out of the door way and lets himself into the auxiliary turbo chamber. "Tommy!"

It's been less than an hour, but Tommy's an utter wreck, sobbing on the floor of the room. His blanket is still pulled around him, but he's shivering and rocking back and forth, muttering to himself. His hair is even more tangled and unkempt. His eyes widen and he jerks away as Billy, still morphed, approaches him.

"Shh, it's all right." Billy quickly unmorphs. "I'm back. Everything's fine."

Kimberly's shadow falls over him in the doorway. "You brought him to the Command Center?"

"I didn't know what else to do." Billy's voice breaks slightly as he tries to touch Tommy and he jerks away miserably.

Noticing the others, Kimberly turns around, blocking the doorway. "Back up, back up. Nothing to see here."

"Like hell there isn't! Billy's let that crack whore into the Command Center and just left him here while we were fighting that monster. He's probably sabotaged the place."

Aisha puts her hand on her hip. "Adam, what're you even _talking _about?"

"I'm talking about that guy in there." Adam points, and Kimberly's not quite big enough to block the view from the others. "That's Tommy. He used to be the evil Green Ranger, at least until he decided he liked sucking cock for blow better."

"Shut _up_, Adam!"

All eyes turn to Rocky, wide with disbelief, including Adam's.

After recovering for a moment, Adam squares his shoulders. "But that's what he was doing, isn't it? You don't deny it, do you?"

"C'mon you guys," Kimberly says. "It's not like that. Tommy's an old friend of ours. He's fallen on hard times, but he's one of us. Billy's just helping him out. It wasn't safe to leave him home, and he couldn't get someone in to watch him on such short notice."

"He's _not _like me," Adam protests.

Billy's managed to get Tommy to look at him, and is attempting to calm Tommy's breathing by just looking at each other and ignoring everything else. He doesn't think it's working. _He's _still furious with Adam, after all.

Aisha shakes her head. "Why do you keep insulting him? That's not like you."

"'Cause _he's a crack whore_! Why don't you people _get _this? He was the evil Green Ranger and when he gave up his powers, he turned to drugs and prostitution! Not exactly the Prodigal Son returning here!"

Kimberly narrows her eyes. "He _didn't give up_ his powers. They were taken from him. Anyway, if Billy trusts him, shouldn't that be enough for you?"

"Yeah," Rocky says. "Not even _you _can call _Billy _an idiot."

Adam narrows his eyes. "There's a first time for everything."

Disgusted, Rocky starts toward the turbo chamber.

"I swear to God, Rocky, if you go in there . . ."

He spins around. "You'll _what_?"

"This is not helping _anyone_," Kimberly says. "If you two want to fight, you've got to go do it somewhere else. Go. Now! I'm not joking here."

"You two better cool your heels before you start saying things you regret." Aisha steps between them, grabbing one arm each. "I'll take care of these two, Kim. Keep me posted on what's happening." Before Rocky and Adam can protest, all three teleport out.

Letting out a deep breath, Kimberly finally returns to the turbo chamber. "Tommy?"

"We need to get him out of the Command Center. He doesn't want to teleport again, but I don't see how we really have any choice."

Tommy's pleading eyes turn to Kimberly. "No, _please_."

"You want to be out of this place, don't you, Tommy?" She kneels before him. "Just close your eyes. It'll all go away in a second and you'll be safe and sound, back in Billy's house."

"Kim." His eyes close and his hands blindly grope for hers.

"I've gotcha." She squeezes his hands tightly in hers, and then nods at Billy.

Taking a deep, silent breath, Billy reaches out and teleports all three of them back to his place.

To his relief, Tommy doesn't react. They're all three on the floor of his living room, Kimberly finally unmorphed.

"You can open your eyes now," she whispers.

Tommy does and cringes at the location change, but visually relaxes slightly anyway.

Exhausted, Billy gets to his feet. He's so grateful to Kimberly, but it feels impossible to explain just how much in front of Tommy.

"What've you done to your hair?" she gently says, still holding Tommy's hands. "I spent all that time untangling it, and you went and put a rubber band in there?"

Tommy opens his mouth to reply, but all that comes out is a weak little gasp.

"Oh, Tommy." Melting, Kimberly just pulls him close and squeezes her eyes shut as Tommy clings to her, burying his face against her neck.

Billy isn't sure if he ought to leave them alone or not. He picks up the scissors he'd been using earlier—it feels like days ago—in an attempt to cut the rubber band out. If anyone can get to it, it's Kimberly. "Should I . . . ?"

"It's all right. I can handle him for now." She rubs Tommy's back. "You should to work; I know you can't miss anymore time. I'll call you if I need anything."

"Are you sure?" He knows in his heart she's right. Tommy's rejecting him right now. He suspects it's a mixture of everything that happened last night, hurting him while trying to cut out the rubber band and the sheer fact that Billy's a guy. He only hopes the rejection doesn't last long.

"I'm sure. I know you can't miss any more work."

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine."

"All right." Part of Billy wants to just collapse and shake and sob himself, but he holds it together. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Kimberly just pulls Tommy closer and sadly smiles at him.

Everyone at work is surprised when Billy actually shows up, but he pays them no mind. He has a lot to catch up on and no energy to be social. The gossip at lunch centers almost completely on the monster attack and the way the Power Rangers handled it, but Billy works through lunch, not partaking in the conversation.

He calls Kimberly around one to find that Tommy's down for a nap. It's hard to tell her what to expect when Tommy wakes up—nightmares and screaming are common—with nosy co-workers eavesdropping, but he's confident he gets the idea across. He's less confident when Kimberly mentions that Aisha is stopping by later in the afternoon to help settle Tommy. As much as he trusts Kimberly, he' snot sure how introducing Tommy to another stranger is going to help.

Although he's officially off at five, Billy works until eight to make up for taking the morning off and appease his boss. He needs this job and is cutting it far too close for comfort. It isn't until he's finally heading for home that he realizes Adam never showed up at all.

Aisha's car is still in the driveway when he gets home, which surprises him. She lives up in the mountains and it seems a considerable distance to drive—especially when she'd teleported to Angel Grove that morning to fight the monster.

When he opens the front door, he discovers the living room has been rearranged in his absence. The couch, formerly against the wall, now juts into the living room, but faces the entertainment system properly. All three are seated there, watching an old Disney cartoon.

"Took you long enough!" Kimberly says, getting to her feet.

Aisha pauses the video. "I wanted to stay and see your reaction."

"My . . . reaction?"

Kimberly can hardly contain herself. "We gave Tommy a makeover!"

Blinking a few times, Billy moves around the couch to look at Tommy. He's calm, even smiling. The _gi _pants are gone, replaced with a form fitting black turtleneck sweater and designer jeans. The biggest change is his hair. Not only has the rubber band been removed, but the ends of his hair have been trimmed and the waves and curls meticulously flat-ironed out.

It almost doesn't look like Tommy.

"Wow," Billy says, actually rather speechless. It's hard to imagine Tommy willingly submitting to so much sartorial and tonsorial work.

Tommy's smile wavers. "It's a bit much, yeah?"

"Nonsense." Kimberly gives Tommy's shoulder a squeeze. "I think he looks dashing."

"Like a prince," Aisha agrees.

"It's certainly eye-catching." Billy sets his briefcase down. "How long did all that take?"

"We went shopping for a few hours," Kimberly cheerfully says. "Don't worry, it's all on us."

"Tommy's wardrobe needed some _serious _updating."

"We put all his new clothes in his closet and his new shampoo and hair care products in the bathroom."

"They spent over an hour flat-ironing it." Tommy rubs his palms on his thighs. "Looked like a lot of work."

"We let Tommy nap for a while after we finished shopping."

Aisha leans against the couch. "That's when Kim and I decided to rearrange your living room. It flows much better this way, don't you think?"

"And all three of us can face the TV when watch it now," Kimberly says.

Billy's too weary to protest, and to care. "Have you three eaten dinner?"

Kimberly nods. "Oh, yes. A couple of hours ago."

"Then you won't mind if I go make myself something to eat?"

"Oh, no. Go ahead."

After stepping out of his shoes, Billy pads into the kitchen. The video in the other room resumes, but a few minutes later Kimberly joins in him in the kitchen.

For a bit, she fidgets with her fingers. "Have you heard anything from Adam or Rocky?"

Billy stares at the microwave as it cooks. "No."

"I tried to get Tommy to explain what happened last night, but he wasn't always clear."

Billy wants nothing more than a hot shower, a neck massage and some dinner. He really doesn't want to discuss this, especially not to the crooning of Disney show tunes in the background. "Can this wait until tomorrow?"

"It's serious, Billy. We're a team; we can't act like that the next time Master Vile attacks."

"I know." Billy's shoulders slump. "I'll take care of it. Just, tomorrow."

Kimberly's hands slide up and begin massaging his shoulders. "You're taking care of everything, Billy. Who's taking care of you?"

Once Aisha and Kimberly leave, the comfort level of the house plummets. The dancing cartoons switch off, and the air echoes with silence. Tommy remains seated on the couch like some forgotten prince and Billy's no longer sure if he's the best person to be watching him; despite how hard he tries, Tommy's much more comfortable around Kimberly.

"I'm glad you had a good time with Kim and Aisha."

Tommy stares at the floor. "Not sure it was _good_, exactly."

"It's certainly an improvement to how I left you."

"I'm sorry about that . . . everything just . . . was too much at once."

"There's nothing to apologize over." Billy sits on the couch beside him. The television is still on, displaying one of those banal game shows, but the volume has been turned down. "You did really well given the circumstances." Billy runs his hand over the fabric of the couch. "And Kim did a remarkable job cleaning you up and calming you down."

"Yeah. She's great."

A strange thread of sadness flickers through Billy. "We can ask if she'll watch you for a while, if you'd like."

Tommy is silent for a very long time. "If you think that's best."

Curious at the delay, Billy glances over and notices how tense Tommy's gotten. It also gives him another view of just how strange his hair looks so flattened. "It's not about what I think. It's about what's best for you. I just . . . thought you might be more comfortable around her than me for a while."

"Oh." Tommy's face lightens. "I like Kim a lot, don't get me wrong, but more so in small doses. I don't know if I could handle that full time." He glances to Billy. "I like to stay here. If . . . if that's all right with you."

As tired as Billy is, he can't help but smile. "Of course it is." Something compels him to reach out and touch Tommy's hair. "Though you may want to reconsider if you plan to have someone help you flat-iron this every day."

Tommy actually lets out a soft chuckle. "You don't like it either, huh?"

"It looks very nice," Billy says, giving Tommy a once over. He really is quite attractive, and the fine clothes and neat hair help to exemplify that. "I'm just not sure it's really . . . _you_."

"Yeah."

Tommy's eyes are on him, and Billy's suddenly acutely aware of how close they're sitting on the couch. He can smell all the different products in Tommy's hair and on his body. He can even see the glossy shine of chapstick on Tommy's lips.

Billy's not sure how, but he can tell Tommy's aware of it all too and that his eyes have flickered off Billy's to focus on Billy's mouth. The realization that Tommy wants to kiss dawns on Billy slowly and indistinctly, like being unable to focus a telescope properly on the moon. He knows it's _there _and recognizes it for what it is, but something remains terribly _off _about it.

Tommy starts to lean toward him and the world feels like it's going in slow motion. All Billy can think about is how nice it'd be to kiss someone and how long it's been since he's been on a date, let alone had intimate thoughts or feelings for anyone.

It's immediately followed up with thoughts of how _very _wrong this is and could be. It's not exactly easy, but Billy pulls back before Tommy gets anywhere with his advance. Sitting on the couch is still too close, so Billy surges to his feet. "It's getting late. I, uh, I had better get started on the dishes." He turns his thoughts to contemplating the biological mechanics of how his heart rate skyrocketed so quickly.

Tommy's shocked and crestfallen. "Yeah." He swallows thickly. "I want to wash all this crap out of my hair anyway."

Billy lets out his breath as Tommy disappears into the bathroom and distracts himself with loading the dishwasher. It isn't enough to keep the thoughts out of his head.

Did Adam's words make Tommy think he needed to act that way or is Tommy actually interested? Worse, is _Billy _actually interested? He can't deny that the attraction is there, which is odd enough in itself, given Billy's own romantic track record. There are a whole host of reasons he shouldn't want to pursue something with Tommy; it's not a position to assume lightly or without fully thinking things through.

Shoving the thoughts away, Billy returns to the dishes; there's already too much on his plate to deal with without adding this to it right now.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter nine:**

"I think I'm ready."

Billy's fork is halfway to his mouth when Tommy speaks and he decides to chew and swallow his dinner before replying. "And what would that be for?"

Tommy's clearly struggling with his words. "To . . . to see a doctor, or whatever, you know."

It's not what Billy expected. He wipes his mouth with his napkin and tries not to sound too pleased. "That's definitely something we can arrange." He's wanted to take Tommy to a professional since the moment he laid eyes on him at the Cat's Beard, but resisted, knowing at the time it'd only traumatize him. "Who do I have to thank for the change of heart?"

"Rocky, I guess." Tommy shrugs. "He thinks it will help my stamina with training."

It makes sense, though Billy suspects there's more to it than that. "He's not wrong. How is that going, by the way? Any more trouble from Adam?" Although he's suddenly not hungry, he takes another bite of food anyway.

"No. He doesn't come by when I'm there, and I never take the _gi _off in the dojo. I guess whatever you said to him was really effective."

"Hmm." Billy's quite confident that Adam will never bother Tommy again. He's not sure Adam's ever going to be completely all right with Tommy's past, but when he pulled Adam aside, he made it quite clear that if Adam wants to continue as a Ranger, he needs to _accept _all of the Rangers, current and former, even if doesn't approve of some of their actions. "Remind me to give Rocky a bonus." He looks at his watch. "It's probably a little late now, but we'll find a doctor to see you tomorrow."

Tommy blinks. "You really think I need to see someone that soon?"

"Emphatically, yes. Tommy, I'm not going to couch my words here. _Everyone _should have an annual physical check up, but you haven't seen a doctor in at least six years. You've been using drugs, eating poorly and having sex with . . . people you didn't know very well. You're six years overdue. You definitely need a check up."

Tommy picks at a piece of lint on the sweater he's wearing. "You don't . . . think they're going to get me in trouble? I mean, they're gonna know I used coke."

"No. Doctors are there to help. They'll protect your confidentiality." He can tell Tommy's still not sure. "Do you trust me?"

Tommy wets his lips. "Tomorrow's fine."

It isn't easy to find Tommy a doctor on such short notice, with no health care, but Billy's resourceful and has researched considerably in preparation of this day.

Although he knows that sitting in the waiting room is much easier than what Tommy's experiencing, Billy hates it. He fidgets and reads the year-old magazines cover-to-cover. He really expects them to come out and ask him questions on Tommy's behalf, but they never do. Tommy's an adult; he doesn't need Billy to speak for him.

After nearly two hours, Tommy returns tired and worn, but no worse for the wear. He has a bandage on his arm where he gave blood and a stack of paperwork in his hand. He flops down beside Billy, ignoring the other patients in the waiting room. "Well, I'll live."

Billy knows the test results he asked to have run can't possibly be back yet, but he's relieved all the same. "That's a good start. And?"

"And they'll have results back in five to six weeks. I gave them your number." He hands over the pile of papers. "I've got prescriptions and things there we need to get filled."

Billy flips through the papers. "And referrals to see a therapist as well." He glances at Tommy. "Are you ready for that?"

Staring down at his knees, Tommy shrugs. "Dunno. Guess I have to try to find out, huh?"

"That's a good attitude to have." He can't help but think Tommy's overdressed. His sweater sleeves are pushed up, revealing tattooed forearms and the bandage, and his long hair is pulled back into a neat ponytail. Tommy hardly ever wears anything that shows off any of his tattoos anymore. It's rare to see them even now, and he knows by the time they're in the parking lot, he'll have pulled the sleeves back down. "Shall we go get these filled then?"

"Yeah. Uh." Tommy gets to his feet. "There's one you can probably ignore . . ."

Billy gets up and starts making his way to the hospital pharmacy. "Oh?" He looks through the files again, much more closely this time. There's a prescription for depression medication, for antibiotics, for some sort of ointment, for various vitamins and . . . a prescription for eyeglasses. "You saw an optometrist?"

"Yeah. That's the one." He reaches for the slip of paper, but Billy pulls it out of his grasp. "I really don't think I need glasses."

"This prescription would claim otherwise. If this is accurate, you _definitely _need glasses." He nods toward the sign they're approaching. "Can you read that?"

Tommy squints. "Pharmacy."

Billy suspects that's because he knows what it says. "There's nothing wrong with wearing glasses."

"I know. I mean, you look fine in yours. I'm just . . . they're not really for me."

Billy slides the rest of the prescriptions over to the nurse on staff and waits for her to fill them. "Why don't you try some on and see how much easier it is to see first?"

"You don't have money to waste."

"That's true." Billy leans against the counter. "Except I don't consider this a waste of money."

Although he knows Tommy doesn't want them, he puts up no resistance after that. Instead of heading home after getting the prescriptions filled, Billy takes them to a vision care store where he spends the next hour coaxing Tommy into different frames.

It doesn't take long before the chore turns into something fun as each pair he tries on gets sillier and stranger than the last. After Tommy pulls off a particularly ridiculous pair of sunglasses, Billy hands him a sensible silver frame. "I think you'd look very sharp in these."

Tommy's reluctant, but eventually slides them on and Billy's smile isn't forced. With the sweater, the ponytail and the glasses, he looks both sophisticated, hip _and _educated. It's a look Billy's never quite been able to pull off and they're qualities Billy finds remarkably attractive.

Perhaps that's a reason Tommy should go for another pair.

"You like these?" Tommy studies his reflection in the mirror. "I feel like I should be a professor in order to wear them."

Billy thinks that would be just divine. "You could always go back to school."

Turning to his profile, Tommy pulls a serious face. "I think I'd have to, in these things."

Though he knows he needs to not be pursuing this feeling, Billy gets to his feet. "Those are the best ones you've tried on. Let's get them so we can get home and have some dinner."

"Are you sure? They look expensive."

"I'm sure." Reaching out, he gently tugs them off Tommy's face and carries them off. It's a bit of a relief when the clerk says it'll take a few days to craft them to Tommy's prescription.

Billy's not sure he's ready for this new Tommy to be walking around his house in sexy glasses.

* * *

Finding a therapist isn't as easy.

Tommy is uncomfortable and reluctant to see one, both key elements in locating a compatible match. In the end, Billy picks a suitable looking guy; it's just a trial, after all. His name is Brian. He's not much older than Tommy, keeps a rainbow flag in the corner of his office and says he specializes in helping people with substance abuse. Best of all, the man offers a discount when Billy manages to fix his faulty computer system.

It's hard not to ask Tommy after the first session how it went. Billy wants to be patient. He wants Tommy to feel comfortable opening up to _him_. All he says is, "It was okay." It isn't easy not pressing for more. He takes comfort just knowing that Tommy's willing to go back.

On the work front, things with Adam remain strained. Billy's lucky enough not to need to talk to Adam often during the day, but the silence between them is lonely, and points to the fact that the problem hasn't been resolved. Fortunately Adam's let Tommy and Rocky continue their interaction, but, especially in light of the rift during Vile's last attack, Billy wants to patch things up.

"Hey," Billy says, leaning against Adam's cubicle. It's Wednesday and he knows Adam doesn't have classes tonight. "I was wondering if you wanted to grab a beer after work. Maybe we could catch up a little?"

Adam glances at him, but only briefly. "I really ought to get home to Rocky. Hardly see him anymore these days."

"I know you really value your free time, Adam, but I feel this is important."

Adam still doesn't look at him. "What? I thought we went through this already."

"If the situation was actually resolved, why are you ignoring me at work? Don't you think that's a little juvenile?"

Scowling, Adam finally looks at him. "_I'm_ not your boyfriend. Sometimes I have better things to do at work than talk to you."

Glancing around the mostly empty office, Billy leans closer and lowers his voice. "It's exactly this sort of attitude that's damaging to the team. C'mon, let's grab a beer. I don't want to have this conversation at work."

He can tell Adam wants nothing more than to tell him to shove it, but that he wisely swallows his initial reply and, with a huff, shuts down his computer and grabs his coat. "Twenty minutes, that's it. I promised Rocky I'd be home for dinner tonight."

"Great, thanks."

Billy waits until Adam's downed most of his microbrew before saying, "Not that it's any of your business, but I wanted to ameliorate any of your misconceptions about Tommy and I being physically intimate. We aren't. He's gone through a lot of abuse and I would never further traumatize him that way. You know me better than that, Adam." He toys with the condensation on his own glass. "Furthermore, I thought you should know that Tommy's been to the doctor finally and he has a clean bill of health so far. Not all of the test results are back, and we're going to run a few more in a couple of months to make sure, but . . . well. He's incredibly lucky."

"Why are you telling me all of this?"

"Because I want you to understand Tommy, not just tolerate him. He didn't go to that place because he wanted to be there. He fell through the cracks. The Rangers didn't help him and Zordon didn't help him. He had nowhere else to turn. I'm not saying it was the right thing for him to do. Perhaps in the same situation you or I would find a better way of surviving. Tommy's a good guy. He's one of us and he's trying to put that past behind him. He doesn't need animosity from the people who are supposed to be his friends."

Adam takes a long drink of his beer. "He was the evil Green Ranger, Billy. I was barely in high school at the time, but I have vivid memories of watching the Dragonzord destroy buildings on TV."

"And I remember going to school with him. I remember how conflicted he was. He was under a spell, Adam. We've all been under them. You know what it's like."

"I know they never lasted more than a day or two . . ."

"It's true Tommy was under a much stronger spell. It may even be true that something about him intrinsically allowed Rita to control him more easily than someone else. The fact remains, he is _not _evil. He taught youth karate classes before Rita found him. He helped Jason teach his for a while, afterward. He didn't do drugs before Rita. His biggest flaw was forgetfulness. He was just an ordinary teenager, like any of us. He just fell into an extremely unfortunate situation."

"He was practicing shirtless in _my _dojo with those . . . those tattoos that say those _things _where anybody could have seen him. We have little kids that come to that dojo!"

"I know." Billy nods his head. "And that was wrong of him. He should have had a shirt on, but it was after hours and only for twenty minutes. You have to realize you had impressively bad timing that night. If you'd shown up after your class when Rocky expected you, you would have been introduced to Tommy much more naturally and would not have had the kneejerk reaction to him, or his past, that you ended up having."

"I know." Adam finishes his beer. "I keep thinking about that, but probably not in the way you want me to. I just keep thinking how I could have known him for months . . . even years and not known. It doesn't exactly make me feel any more comfortable around him."

"Rocky knew and didn't have the same reaction. Why do you think that is?"

"Because Rocky's a . . ." Adam cuts himself off. He lets out a deep breath and leans back in his chair. "Because Rocky's trusting and naïve and would be friends with fire hydrants if I let him."

Billy allows himself a chuckle. "Rocky sees the best in people. He's got amazing personal skills. He can just look at Tommy and know what's wrong and how to cheer him up, and proceed to do so in twenty seconds. It's maddening when I've hardly slept because I've been pouring through psychology books trying to sort Tommy out. You should see them together sometime."

"I just don't want him to get hurt. He's too trusting and too easily influenced."

"I know. If Tommy were some guy he picked up off the street, I'd be worried too, but he's not. I trust Tommy with my life, Adam. I _have _trusted Tommy with my life. I vouch for him. Zordon vouches for him. Kimberly does too, and you could call up Jason and ask him as well. We have history with Tommy. We know where he's been. It's okay."

"You don't know that." Adam lifts his chin. "We could let him back in, let him into our secrets, and our lives. If we let him back into the Command Center, what's to stop Master Vile from controlling him again? You can't promise that won't happen. And promises you can't keep makes you no better than Zordon."

"What's to stop Vile from taking control of _any _of us in that way? Tommy doesn't have any powers. He can't even get into the Command Center unless I let him in. Vile has no reason to use him. The best he could do would be to use Tommy as a hostage and . . . well, anyone would work."

Adam shrugs. "It's instinct, okay? He just gives me bad vibes."

"Because you met him the way you did." Billy takes a gulp of his beer. "C'mon, let's go meet up with them. We'll grab dinner and you can reevaluate Tommy properly. My treat."

Adam shakes his head. "You don't have the money to treat me and Rocky to dinner."

"That's true, I don't, but I want to do it anyway. Maybe that'll show you how serious I am about this. I mean it, Adam. We're a team and we need to function like one. Just tell me that you wouldn't be fighting just as hard to help Jason if he turned up five years from now in Tommy's condition."

"Yeah, but Jason wouldn't—"

"Ah, but what if he _did_? Without Zack or the Rangers to help him, maybe he just falls through the cracks, too proud to ask for help . . . Ashamed, maybe, of how he acted during the war."

"Jason did what he did because—"

"_Exactly_. You know Jason. You can make excuses for him. You don't know Tommy, but the 'excuses' for him are just as valid." He finishes off his beer. "Get your coat. Your twenty minutes are up."

Adam stands, but looks resigned. "Let's go to my place. I can't make you buy us dinner, and anyway, Rocky's got steaks marinating for tonight. I'm sure there's enough to share."

Billy tries not to grin too broadly. "Thank you, Adam."

"I can't believe Adam let us come over like this." Tommy takes a sip of his punch, his eyes fixed on Rocky working the barbeque.

Billy smiles. It's cool October night, Adam's got a fire pit going and steaks are cooking on the grill. "Yeah. Suppose he had a change of heart."

"Something you had nothing to do with, I'm sure."

Feeling sheepish, Billy stares down into his cup. "I thought it would do us all good to hang out together."

"No, no, no!" Rocky cries, stabbing at the barbeque with the spatula. "Adam, the zucchini are rolling off the grill! Help me with this!"

Adam's like a deer caught in headlights.

Tommy hands Billy his drink. "I've got this." He jogs over to Rocky, picks up the cooking tongs and rescues the escaping vegetables.

Adam runs a hand through his floppy hair, finally satisfied with the fire pit. "It just never stops with him. He's always got to make a big to-do about everything."

Billy takes a sip of his drink. He's feeling the beer from earlier and his body has relaxed. "Are you and Rocky still fighting?"

Adam sits beside him. "We're not fighting."

Billy raises an eyebrow.

"I apologized to him!" He slumps back into the chair. "He just doesn't think I really meant it, and I haven't been home enough to prove it. And now we're entertaining unexpected guests."

Across the patio, Rocky and Tommy are giggling together about something. Checking the food, Rocky closes the grill top to let them cook and says, "C'mon, I'll show you!" Moments later, they've disappeared inside.

Before Adam can shout at them for leaving the grill unattended, Billy reaches out and puts a hand on Adam's arm. "I think tonight is more of an apology than anything else you could do."

Adam frowns, but shrugs. "He does love hanging out with Tommy, I'll give you that."

Closing his eyes, Billy leans back in his chair. "And, just take a moment and listen."

The night is silent, save for the very distant whoosh of cars as they drive by. "To what?"

"Exactly. While they're inside playing, they're leaving us alone to relax."

"I don't know about you, but I _like _being around Rocky."

Billy cracks his eye open and lolls his head to the side.

"Well. Maybe not _all _the time." Adam crosses his arms. "I just hardly get to see him these days. I'm always so busy and tired. Sometimes I think he and Tommy . . ." He purses his lips and shrugs.

"They're not. Rocky never would and Tommy . . .. He's really not interested."

Adam snorts.

"He's started seeing a therapist, you know."

"Took him long enough."

Billy ignores Adam's tone. "It's not the sort of thing you can force someone into. There's just been the one session, but I'm hopeful."

Adam stares at the grill. "It's almost like . . . I don't know, like I _want _Tommy to fail."

"I know. To prove me wrong. Everyone wants to be validated."

Adam grunts. "Should I go check on that?"

Billy tilts his head. "Have you ever barbequed before?"

"No." Glancing at him, Adam says, "Have you?"

Billy shrugs. "I'd leave it."

Adam reluctantly settles back down. "It isn't that I want to be validated. It just seems like everyone else is way too trusting. Someone ought to remain skeptical."

"Did you want to become leader once Jason left?"

"What?"

"Of the Power Rangers."

"I know what you meant." He shrugs. "But, not really. You were leader before he came back."

"It'd just make sense you would question my authority if you thought you'd be a better leader."

"I'd be a good leader." Adam stares at the barbeque grill again. "I don't know that I'd be a better one."

Billy likes the answer. "I really don't give you enough credit. I'm always so wrapped up in all of my work I never stop to look at how much you and Kimberly and the others are helping me hold things together."

A moment of silence passes. "We're at team, aren't we?"

"Yes. I should just . . . delegate more and—"

A loud crash comes from inside. Seconds later, Rocky and Tommy come jogging out. "There's nothing to worry about! Everything is fine and under control!" Rocky goes to the grill immediately to check on the food.

"Tommy?"

"Rocky just wanted to show me his sword collection. It's really cool!"

"Hey, I could use a hand with flipping these!"

Letting out a karate cry, Tommy karate chops his way back to Rocky's side.

"You're right," Adam says. "It was quieter."

Billy grins. "How's school going?"

"Ugh. It's almost midterms. I'm killing myself just to _get _to class; I have _no _time to study."

"Maybe I can help you someday. Civil engineering, right? I've always been interested in that."

"What are you still doing working that IT job, Billy? You could get a degree in anything without trying and be making ten times what you are now."

"I have even less free time than you do. I hardly sleep anymore. Maybe someday. I'm certainly not where I expected to be with my life."

"Zordon didn't really take our future into consideration, did he?"

"It's a worthwhile trade off, though, isn't it?"

Adam shrugs. "Depends on how much you like to sleep."

"Gentlemen," Rocky calls from across the patio. "Dinner is served!" He holds a tray laden with grilled steak and vegetables.

They move inside where it's warmer for dinner, and Billy is impressed by how good the food is.

"So." Rocky grins. "Tommy's birthday is on Wednesday. We should plan to do something for it."

Tommy's eyes widen and he stares at his food, flustered.

"Is it?" Billy's embarrassed. For all of his smarts, he tends to forget so many simple things. "Well . . . perhaps you can throw a party for us, Rocky?"

The way Rocky's eyes light up reminds Billy of a puppy getting a new toy. Rocky looks at Adam eagerly. "Can we? Please?"

Confronted with such enthusiasm, Adam's perpetual frown finally starts to melt. "I've got a midterm that morning, but . . ." He shakes his head, smiling softly. "I guess we could. A small one."

Rocky launches himself toward Adam in a hug. "You're the best!"

Chuckling, Billy exchanges glances with Tommy. Although he's certain they're all going to benefit from relaxing and hanging out tonight, he's starting to suspect Adam's going to benefit most of all.

* * *

The party for Tommy's birthday is planned on short notice, but with a carefully timed and worded phone call, Billy's able to arrange a very special surprise.

Rocky and Adam host, and to keep the surprise, Billy and Tommy arrive after all the guests have assembled and the music and food have started flowing.

"I can't believe you guys went to all of this for me," Tommy says, staring at the colorful balloons decorating the front door.

Billy's trying not to smile too brightly. "We've got a lot of birthdays to make up for." He reaches out and rings the bell.

"I'll get it!" a voice from inside calls.

Tommy's brow furrows. "Hey, that sounded like-"

The front door swings open to reveal Jason, grin on his face and drink in hand. His eyes widen in shock. "_Tommy_?" He blinks and shakes his head in disbelief. "It _is _you! I don't believe it, bro! How you been, man!" He reaches out and grips Tommy's hand in a fierce shake.

Zack bounces up behind him, grabs Jason around the shoulder and winks at Billy. "Hey, Tommy! Happy birthday!"

Jason manages to look even more surprised. "That's right! You and I share the same birthday!"

"C'mon in, guys. Hey, Billy." Zack ushers them in.

Jason looks at Billy finally. "You planned this whole thing, didn't you, you little sneak?"

Feeling suddenly sheepish, Billy jams his hands in his pockets. "Affirmative. I thought it might be a pleasant surprise for both of you."

"It is, it is!" Jason slaps Billy's arm affectionately as he enters. "You're looking good, man. Keeping on top of these new attacks?"

"Uh-huh," Zack warns. "Hey, no Ranger talk, remember? That's part of The Deal. Besides, uh," he nods his head toward the living, "Skull's here."

"Right, right." Jason grins from Billy to Tommy. "I swear he's got me on a leash!"

"I heard that!"

Jason winks at Billy. "I'll call you later." Much louder, he says, "Have you seen Kim? She's here too and still smoking as ever."

As Jason leads the way into the living room, Tommy stops and stares at Billy. "Jason and _Zack _are together?"

It's hard now for Billy to think of a time when they _weren't_. "I forgot that happened after you left. They got together during the peace conference and have been going strong ever since."

Tommy shakes his head as they continue to the living room. "Is anybody here _not _gay?"

"Uh, roger that! I am definitely one-hundred par-cent hetero!" Skull says, quite cheerfully.

"Can you believe it!" Jason calls. His arm is now around Skull. "Skull and Kim!"

"That's enough, Jase," Kimberly teasingly says.

"Hey, uh," Zack bounces up to Tommy again. "I don't really think any of us identify like that, you know? I mean, I have _definitely _had my fair share of girls. _Fair _share. It just turned out that the person of my dreams happens to be a gorgeous, Jason-shaped man."

Tommy's eyes linger on that Jason-shape a little too approvingly for Billy's comfort.

Billy clears his throat. "I believe most of us have come to the decision that sexuality isn't really as binary as our society has determined it to be. Most people fall somewhere in the middle of the Kinsey scale, with various degrees of bisexuality. That's uh, a study predominately done by Alfred Kinsey in the 1940s and 50s to show how—" Realizing Tommy's not paying him any attention, Billy shuts up. "There does seem to be an unusually high same-sex ratio within the Rangers, however."

Suddenly, Tommy's eyes are on him. "_You_?"

Billy didn't expect Tommy to ask him _quite _so pointedly. He shrugs slightly. "I'm probably about a two on the Kinsey scale."

Rocky appears with drinks in his hands and gives one to Tommy. "That means he usually fantasizes about Kim, but sometimes dreams of going down on Jason."

Feeling himself starting to blush, Billy ignores the comment and nods at the drink Rocky gave Tommy. "I hope that's not cola. You shouldn't have sugary drinks after dark."

Rocky gives him a peculiar look. "It's his _birthday_!" He turns to Tommy. "C'mon, let's get you some pizza!" He drags Tommy off to the kitchen.

"I've dreamed about going down on Jason," Kimberly cheerfully states. "Does that make me bisexual too?"

"Only if you thought you were a guy while dreaming," Aisha says.

Zack waves his arms sharply. "Although I understand the appeal, can we _please _stop talking 'bout going down on my man?"

Skull raises his hand. "I am in complete agreement with Zack for once."

"I'm straight, Tommy," Aisha calls as Tommy returns from the kitchen. "Unless you count some experimentation in high school."

Laughingly, Kimberly settles on the couch, pulling Skull down with her. "What about that night a few months ago when you got really drunk and made out with that waitress?"

"_That _was to make Alejandro hot. It so doesn't count." To Tommy, she says, "Alejandro is my man, of course. He's got a job up in the mountains tonight, otherwise he'd be here. He told me to wish you happy birthday, though."

"Uh, thanks."

"Yeah, it's too bad Trini couldn't make it," Zack says. "This is turning into a real Ranger—" He stares at Skull. "Range of old high school friends. Yeah, like a high school reunion."

It's unreal how strange it feels to Billy to continue to keep their identities secret from the likes of Skull. If Skull were any brighter, it'd be a complete farce. The music is too loud in the living room, so Billy makes his way to the kitchen, where he finds Adam sticking candles into a massive cake.

"You guys really pulled out all the stops for this party. Thank you."

"Thank Rocky. This is almost all his doing."

The cake is decorated half with the Gold Ranger and half with the Green Ranger. It's well done, but _very _Ranger-y. Given Tommy's reaction to being back in the Command Center, he's not exactly happy about it. "Zack is going to flip when he sees that."

"I'm more concerned about Skull's reaction."

Behind him, Billy hears Jason say, "You've gotta see this cake Rocky put together man, it's amazing."

"There's a cake, too?"

Jason pulls Tommy into the living room and they all crowd around the table, looking at the cake. "We're made of frosting, bro!" Jason laughs, delighted.

Tommy stares at Jason more than the cake. "It's amazing." He's certainly not disturbed by the picture.

Adam gives Billy a pointed look.

At a loss, all Billy can do is shrug.

After cake and ice cream, everyone gathers around Adam's fire pit outside, reminiscing and occasionally roasting marshmallows. It's much later than Billy wanted to stay out on a weekday night, but Tommy's having such a good time catching up with Jason and Zack he can't call it a night.

"Jason and Tommy look like good friends," Adam says, leaning close to Billy. "He has _no _idea what happened to Tommy, does he?"

Billy shakes his head. "He knows most of it. I wanted him to be prepared." He glances to Adam. "He's got a lot of personal turmoil to work through now that he knows what happened to Tommy. Don't let the smiles fool you; he's feeling quite guilty now."

Adam crosses his arms. "Everyone seems to like Tommy so much."

"He's a likeable-guy."

"He certainly has a way with other guys."

Billy tries not to think about that. His interest in Jason can only be in passing; there's no way Jason would ever do anything to jeopardize his relationship with Zack.

Even so, it's worth it to see Tommy with friends again. Though he can tell Adam's not completely convinced yet, seeing Jason—someone Adam admires—getting on so well and trusting with Tommy gives him hope. Adam's smart. Billy knows once he figures it out and trusts him, he'll know for sure and likely become Tommy's biggest supporter.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter ten:**

"I can't do it anymore."

Billy looks up from the laptop he's working on for the last ten minutes, startled to see Tommy back in the therapist waiting room so soon. "What's wrong? It's only been ten minutes."

"I just _can't_, okay?"

He starts for the door and Billy has no choice but to close up his laptop and hurry after him. In the distance he can hear Brian calling after them.

"Give us a moment!" Billy calls back.

He finally gets Tommy to stop outside, where their words are swallowed quickly by the roar of traffic down the nearby street. Tommy's unsettled, rubbing his arms uncomfortably.

"What is it? What's wrong? You've already done four sessions. I thought you like Brian."

"I do. He's . . . he's fine."

"Are you not comfortable here? He might be willing to come to my house."

"No. It's nothing like that. Billy, you _know_. I can't tell him_ everything_. I can't!"

Billy blinks. "You don't have to tell him anything you're not comfortable with telling him, but . . . he is trained to deal with this sort of thing."

For possibly the first time in his life, Tommy gives Billy a 'Are you stupid?' look. "I mean about _Zordon_. He knows I'm hiding something huge and I can't tell him I used to be a Power Ranger. I'm just wasting his time and yours and your money."

The explanation nearly blows Billy over. It's the sort of thing he should have thought of, or at least realized Tommy wouldn't reveal, even to a therapist sworn to confidentiality. The next thought occurs almost immediately and it's that even if Tommy _had _told Brian, no therapist in their right mind would _believe him_.

"I have had it up to _here _with Zordon and his useless rules. Come on." Billy grabs Tommy's arm and drags him back inside.

"But, Billy!"

Fire and determination flood through Billy. He feels more alive than he has in months. "Right now, your health is more important than that rule. Understand me?"

Brian's standing not too far outside of his office, a perplexed expression on his face. "We can reschedule if Tommy needs a little time to—"

"I just need to talk to you for a moment," Billy says, ushering both Brian and Tommy back into the office and shutting the door. He directs Tommy back to his chair and, after a moment, Brian settles, too. Blood pounds in Billy's veins; he feels he's standing on the cusp of something truly great. "The big secret Tommy's been keeping from you is that he used to be one of the Power Rangers. The Green Ranger, in fact, who you may recall was often under an evil spell."

He can tell Brian is listening but completely not buying it. Billy focuses on him instead of Tommy, whose eyes have widened. He continues. "He kept this a secret because our mentor has demanded secrecy from us, but also because he knew you'd never believe him." Billy smiles. "Allow me to change your mind."

He reaches behind him, fingers around his morpher, and then, exhilaration flooding through him, calls out, "It's morphin' time!"

"Billy!"

"Blue Ranger Power!"

Now it isn't just Tommy's eyes that are wide.

The power flooding through Billy's veins settles his exhilaration and helps him concentrate. "Now, I know you've signed a confidentially contract with Tommy," Billy says, keep his gaze locked on Brian, "so I recommend you keep this to yourself."

His communicator goes off. Smiling, Billy covers it. "That'll be the boss, undoubtedly very angry with me right now. I want you to realize how important this is. Tommy needs _help_. You've just landed yourself the opportunity of a lifetime. Don't screw it up." The communicator chimes again.

Turning to Tommy, Billy says, "It's all going to be all right. Take as long as you need. I'll be back as soon as I've dealt with Zordon."

With a final nod to both of them, he presses the teleport button on his communicator and whisks out in a brilliant blue beam he knows will settle the last of Brian's skepticism.

"Billy, what is the meaning of this?"

"Well, you sure didn't waste any time dealing with _this_, did you?" Billy glances at the Viewing Globe just to make certain that there's no monster attack. Everything is quiet; it's all just Zordon. "You jump on me the moment I reveal my identity to a certified therapist, but in six years you never thought to actually help Tommy himself?"

"The protection of the world far outweighs the life of just one of its citizens."

"You know, I actually _agree _with you on that? Only, that's never been the situation with Tommy. He isn't a random citizen; he's a Ranger and you abandoned him. There's never been conflict between saving Tommy and saving the world. You even knew I was looking for him; you just didn't care."

"This has gone beyond just helping Tommy. You have assaulted civilians and disrupted police officers and have revealed your identity to a third party."

"_All _to help Tommy. All because _you _never did. What's the purpose of these secret identities, anyway? It's certainly wasn't to keep Zedd and Rita from targeting us—_they _knew who we are. Was it to make sure we never got credit for risking our _teenaged _lives for the world? Was it to assure that we'd never get into universities because our grades suffered so badly due to constantly missing class to fight monsters? Or was it so we would always have to lie to our family and friends about where we were going and why we were always so tired? Are you really expecting us to only date within the group, or else lie to our partners for the rest of our lives? Do you really think something _awful _would happen if the rest of the world knew who we were?"

To Billy's great delight, Zordon remains silent for several seconds. "The Power must be protected. There are people in this world who would attempt to take it from you."

Billy takes a deep breath, calming his heart. "Even if that is true, we handled Rita and Zedd's monsters fo years. Don't you think we could handle some overzealous humans?"

"You were impressionable teenagers. It was a risk not worth taking."

It's hard for Billy not to laugh. "Do you even hear yourself? You were protecting teenagers from other humans, but thought it was perfectly all right to send us to battle space monsters on our own?" He clenches his hand. "All the times I wanted to tell my father where I was going and why I was late and never did. He would have been _so proud _of me." He takes another deep breath. "Things are going to change, Zordon, starting today. Remember that conversation we had a few weeks ago? You asked me what improvements we could make. Well, I've got it all figured out now."

It will take considerable time to implement all of them, but Billy's had weeks to reason out how to achieve everything he needs to achieve. "The very first thing on my agenda is to get rid of your third rule. I'm going to talk it over with the other Rangers tomorrow and then call a press conference and reveal . . . at least my identity. The rest can choose if they want to reveal theirs."

"What purpose will such revelation serve?"

"I have risked my life saving the world on a daily basis since I was sixteen. The thanks I have received for this has been a few parades in Angel Grove, thrown for the Power Rangers, and losing my scholarships and grants to go to university because I was needed by the Power Rangers. I don't regret any of my time here, but there are months where I can't pay my bills. With the time I've had to take off work and the money I've spent helping Tommy, my job is all but ready to let me go. I'm far from the only Ranger struggling financially. I don't have time to work on the zords because I'm fixing broken computers all day to earn enough money to keep my house. That's not _right_.

"I'll reveal our identities and I'll get us a government grant. There's no doubt in my mind that people will be willing to give back a little for all we've given them. And, who knows. It may lead to bigger and better things. I've certainly got some plans."

"There may be serious repercussions from this. You must be careful not to allow the media storm that will result from this to distract you from your real duties."

"I assure you my loyalties will always be with the Rangers and the protection of Earth, but time has changed us. We have out grown you and this Command Center."

"Although you are the leader of the Power Rangers, I do not feel you should be making these decisions without the consent and agreement of the other Rangers."

Billy nods, conceding. "Then let us continue this tomorrow with the other Rangers. Although I expect little opposition, I agree they should all know my plans." He touches his belt. "For now, I should get back to Tommy. I suspect this therapy session will take quite a toll on him. Someone needs to be with him when this is over."

Zordon looks down at him for several seconds. "Billy. It was never my intention that Tommy should fall into harm after losing his powers. I regret that it happened very much."

After gritting his teeth, Billy nods. "I know. You're not human. You're still learning. So am I, and with that learning comes the ability to question your authority and make changes. I know you still don't understand, but believe me, what I have will make us stronger. It will make us so much stronger."

"I believe in you, Billy. You will not let the world, or the other Rangers, down. May the Power protect you."

Although he doubts he'll ever be as blindly trusting of Zordon again, Billy does feel a strange fondness for the strange alien. As he touches the teleport on his belt, he says, "And you."

* * *

Billy returns to the therapist waiting room a little shaken from his revelation and conversation with Zordon. The future looms big and full of potential in front of him and it's so vast and scary it's almost overwhelming. He'll have to call the Rangers together tomorrow for a group discussion on how to go about revealing their identities at large. He's desperate to reveal his own and start petitioning the government to fund the Rangers so he can quit his IT job and work on the zords full time, but he has no desire to force the others to reveal themselves if they're not ready.

He knows for Kimberly especially it will be difficult, considering her long-standing relationship with Skull and his knowledge of the Power Rangers. Still, part of him knows that, given time, all of the Rangers will take the leap. They've all had to sacrifice so much to keep their identities. It's far past time for that to change.

He's so wrapped up in his thoughts that he doesn't notice the passage of time until Tommy's stumbling toward him, eyes red from crying.

"Billy!"

He has just enough time to stand up before Tommy falls into his arms, face pressed against his neck, clinging. The weight nearly buckles Billy's knees.

Brian's hot on his trail, notebook still in hand. "Oh, thank god you're here."

Billy's eyes are wide. "What happened?"

"He's . . . he's fine. I think. He started talking the moment you left. It's . . . it's been amazing. We made quite a breakthrough; it's just taken quite a toll on him."

Tommy's fists gather the fabric of Billy's shirt and hot tears splash down Billy's neck. Feeling less alarmed, Billy wraps his arms back around Tommy, supporting him less and holding him more. "That's a relief." Almost of its own accord, his hand goes up to smooth down Tommy's hair. "Can I take him home, then? It's been quite a day for both of us."

"Yes, yes, of course. I, uh. I think he ought to come back in, though. Sooner than scheduled. Would Monday be all right? Gives you the weekend to recover?"

"That's fine. Just leave a message on my machine with the time." Softer, he addresses Tommy. "Come on, let's get you home."

The car ride back from the therapist is almost surreal. Tommy starts talking almost as soon as the doors are closed, but it's a rambling, stream-of-conscious sort of talk that Billy can hardly understand let alone follow. Despite the occasional tears, Billy feels positive about the session. What he can pick up from the rambling is old memories of the Rangers and Rita and the time before the club; all things he knows Tommy needs to talk about and work through.

Tommy gets out of the car on his own once they're parked in Billy's driveway, but he stumbles and needs Billy to help navigate him through the front door. Uncertain they'll make it to the bedroom, Billy deposits Tommy on the couch, and lets out a gasp of surprise when Tommy pulls him down beside him.

Tommy curls into him, sniffling softly, and Billy has no choice but to hold him back. "Hey, it's all right." He rubs Tommy's back gently and feels an almost instant reaction from Tommy. His breath lets out and his shoulders slump, relaxing appreciatively. It's such a change from the way Tommy first reacted to Billy touching him. "Are you all right?"

Tommy nods, but doesn't lift his face off Billy's shoulder. "Didn't . . . realize how much I'd bottled up."

Billy strokes Tommy's hair again, surprised how much he enjoys it. "You denied yourself for six years. It doesn't surprise me."

Tommy shakes his head slightly. "I can't believe what you did back there."

It makes Billy a little light headed thinking back on it. "Truthfully, neither can I."

Tommy finally lifts his face from Billy's shoulder. There are teardrops still clinging to his eyes. "How did Zordon take it?"

Billy's a little stunned just how pretty he finds Tommy like this. "He wasn't happy. So, about as I expected." To get Tommy to stop looking at him, Billy shifts his weight. "Can I get you some tea or . . . cocoa or something?"

Tommy shakes his head and settles back down against Billy. "I'm all right. What did Zordon _say_?"

Billy takes a deep breath. "I explained to him why keeping secret identities was destroying the group, and told him about some other changes we need to make. I didn't really give him room to argue. They weren't suggestions."

"Brr. Would've liked to have seen that."

Stretching, Billy pulls the fleece blanket off the nearby arm chair and drapes it over Tommy. "It felt good to tell him off a little after all these years. I'm grateful to Zordon for many things, but I don't approve at all of some of the ways he's dealt with us." He smiles as Tommy snuggles against him with the blanket. "Tomorrow I plan to call the other Rangers for a meeting to discuss when and how we should reveal our identities to the public at large."

A little shiver courses through Tommy. "Dunno that's such a good idea."

Billy strokes Tommy's hair and feels him settle again. "It will mean huge changes, I know, but we can't go on the way we have been. Not when Kim can't tell her boyfriend who she really is. Not when I can't work on the zords because I have to keep my day job. Not when you need healing and a therapist you can trust."

Tommy takes a shuddering breath and presses his face into Billy's shirt.

"You're sure you're all right?"

"No." The words are muffled against the fabric. "You're not going out tonight, are you?"

Billy shakes his head. "No. I think I've had enough excitement for one day." He stops stroking Tommy's hair long enough to reach out for the remote. It only takes a few buttons to queue up the VCR player. "Would a little Disney cheer you up?"

"Mm." Tommy turns his face enough to see the television. "M'not sad, though."

"Oh? My tear-soaked shirt begs to differ." On the television, the image of a wavery cartoon sun appears, followed by the first intense chords of music.

Tommy manages to snuggle even closer to watch the film. He's quite for a few seconds, and then softly says, "Not all tears are from sadness, Billy."

* * *

In the morning, Billy puts in his two-week notice at work and is summarily told not to come in for the rest of the month. He's not sure if he's been fired or not, but either way it's indescribably freeing.

"What are you _doing_?" Adam asks, baffled.

Billy cheerfully stuffs all his cubicle belongings into a cardboard box. "Making a long-overdue change. I need to see you and Rocky at my place tonight, by the way. It's very," he taps his wrist communicator, "important. Be there around seven."

He contacts Kimberly and Aisha at noon and manages to press the importance of the event on them with a little more difficulty; it's hard sometimes to remember 'normal' people like to go out on Friday night. This just isn't the sort of thing that can wait.

Tommy's in his room napping when the Rangers arrive, which suits Billy just fine. Although he handled therapy session rather well, Tommy's been in and out of coherency since it happened. Expecting tempers to get a bit out of hand tonight when he tells the others his plans, Billy figures it's better if Tommy is out of the way.

He's given considerable thought to just how he'll explain what happened yesterday and begins once everyone has settled in the living room. "With the return of Master Vile intruding on our already very busy lives, I've come to the decision that it's past time for a big change for the Rangers. I have come up with an ambitious but potentially lucrative and very necessary future for us. Last night I discussed it briefly with Zordon, and while he was not happy about all of the finer points, I do have his support on the matter. However, what I want to do will eventually involve and impact all of you, so I want to hear your concerns and opinions first."

Rocky's taken a seat on the floor by the armchair Adam's seated in. He stretches out his legs. "Are we finally gonna get new zords?"

"Unfortunately no," Billy says, "though that may be a more realistic goal if this works out."

Kimberly crosses her foot over her knee. "Well, don't hold us in suspense."

Billy takes a deep breath. "I think it's time we revealed our identities to the public." He isn't met with the general outcry of protests that he expected. "We've all had to put aspects of our lives on hold in order to protect our secret identities and I feel like it's come to the point where keeping them now is more detrimental to us than revealing them."

Adam's jaw drops. "Zordon's _okay _with this?"

"Well," Billy shoves his hands in his pockets, "not exactly. I think I may have managed to convince him that it's nevertheless the right choice. Kimberly, I know you've had trouble dating Skull because of having to lie to him about your identity. Wouldn't it be a relief if you could tell him?"

"It's true." Kimberly glances at the others. "I'm sure he actually already suspects. He asked me a lot of pointed questions that time we had to leave him to babysit Tommy that were really hard to deflect without outright lying." She glances around. "Speaking of which, where is Tommy?"

Billy decides to not go into details. "He didn't sleep well last night, so he's taking a nap."

Adam snorts. "What a freeloader. Doesn't he ever do _anything_?"

Kimberly chucks a throw pillow at him. "Tommy's sick. Don't be such a bully."

Adam blinks. "I'm not _bullying_. It's just a valid observation."

Aisha raises an eyebrow. "It's bullying. I'm sure Tommy hates that he can't help contribute more."

To Billy's surprise, Adam folds in on himself at those words. He smiles, hoping perhaps things have finally been put into perspective for him. "Aisha's right. I know Tommy feels like he's burdening me. While it's a responsibility I gladly accept, there is a financial strain that I also hope to alleviate with revealing out identities."

Rocky perks up. "We could sell autographs!"

It's so simple and absurd Billy laughs. "That's certainly a possibility. I admit, I'm thinking on a slightly grander scale. We've been protecting the world from alien attacks since 1993. That's over six years. We have never once asked the people of Earth for any compensation. It's true that they've thrown us parades and shown their appreciation, but on the whole, we have altruistically performed this service with no benefit to ourselves. In fact, we've had severe detriment. I've never been able to attend university like I had always assumed I would. Kimberly had to give up her chance at the Pan Global Games. Tommy ended up falling through the cracks of society. We've all had to sacrifice something to make this work.

"I'm not saying that the sacrifices haven't been worth it. None of us would be Power Rangers if it wasn't what we were meant to do. All the same, I strongly believe that the people of the world would be quite uneasy if they knew that the leader of the Power Rangers wasn't getting to sleep at night because he was working on repairing the zords that he couldn't fix during the day because he had to hold his nine-to-five job."

The others haven't quite followed, but Adam's eyes are wide. "So, you plan to petition for a government grant or something?"

"That's the idea. Ideally, I'd like to establish an actual Ranger foundation which would eventually be self-sustaining, but to start I'd secure at least enough that the five of us could retire from our current jobs and focus on being fulltime Rangers—and pursuing the things we've always wanted to pursue."

Aisha shrugs. "Couldn't that be dangerous, though? It just takes one crazy nut job with a gun to take us out."

"There is always that risk, but I think it's unlikely. The biggest issue will be the celebrity status we're likely to gain. Revealing our identities means everyone will know who we are. Simple things like going to the grocery store will not be easy anymore. You may have to move to bigger houses with better security. You may be stalked. You may have paparazzi following you. But it will mean the ability to market yourself. You can grant interviews. You can license your likeness. You could start the Pink and Yellow Ranger Boutique and be almost assured an overnight success."

Kimberly and Aisha exchange amused smiles.

Rocky's eyes light up. "People would be _clamoring_ to enroll at our dojo!"

"It could be really dangerous though," Adam says. "Master Vile could attack our families or friends."

"Our identities have never been a secret to Master Vile. Zedd and Rita knew who we were. If they wanted to use our family and friends against us, they could have."

"They have. I'll never forget the time they kidnapped our parents."

"Kimberly's right. Nothing changes if the villain knows. It may, in fact, make us stronger. The biggest worry will be the change in our privacy."

Aisha grins. "You guys can always move up to the mountains with me and Alejandro."

"I admit it may be rough for the first few weeks while we figure things out. A secret place we can escape to when it gets too rough is in my plans. I'd like to keep the location of the Command Center a secret, so a central place in the mountains might not be a bad idea.

"I also wanted to make sure everyone was on the same page. I don't want to force anyone to reveal themselves if they're not ready. Due to our friendships, however, it's likely that if one of us reveals our identity, the rest will soon be under quick scrutiny."

"I just want a little time," Kimberly says. "I don't want Gene to open the paper one day and find out I'm the Pink Ranger. I want to tell him myself first."

Billy nods. "That makes perfect sense. I imagine the same goes for you, Aisha?"

She glances around and shrugs. "I don't know how you did it, Kim. I told Alejandro about me months ago."

Surprised, Billy asks, "Zordon didn't ever say anything to you?"

"He said he never intended for being a Ranger to keep me from doing or being with the things I loved. I think he trusted me enough to not reveal my identity to someone who'd endanger me."

Billy blinks a few times, surprised.

Kimberly shrugs. "He didn't fly off the handle when we revealed ourselves to Rocky, Adam and Aisha."

"That is true." Lost in thought, Billy returns to his seat on the couch beside Kimberly. "So it is possible that we could reveal ourselves only to certain officials."

Adam chuckles. "Yeah, the ones with the money."

"I don't like that," Rocky says. "The people have a right to know who's protecting them."

Aisha laughs. "You just want to fill your dojo."

"Darn right, I do!"

Movement down the hall draws Billy's gaze and he blinks a few times before realizing Tommy's padded out of his room, blinking at the bright lights. His face has a pillow imprint on one side, and his curls are a bit flattened from being slept on.

Delighted, Kimberly calls, "Tommy!"

"Sorry," he says, voice thick with disuse. "Was just thirsty."

"It's no problem at all." Billy gets to his feet quickly and goes into the kitchen. He pours Tommy a glass of juice and hands it to him. "Are you hungry?"

"I could eat."

From in the living room, Rocky calls, "Hey, so could I!"

Billy chuckles. "Would anyone else like a sandwich?"

In ten minutes, Billy's passed out sandwiches and chips to everyone. Tommy settles on the couch, squeezed in between Billy and Kimberly.

Rocky licks his fingers after finishing his sandwich. "Told you I should've brought cupcakes."

Adam playfully gives Rocky's head a shove.

It's nice sitting there with Tommy and not feeling hostility from Adam or fear from Tommy. "We were discussing revealing our identities to the public," Billy says.

Aisha's brow furrows. "Would we reveal Tommy's?"

"No, I don't think that's necessary."

"Good." Tommy sets his empty plate and glass down so he can nestle more comfortable between Billy and Kimberly. "Definitely not ready for that."

"Are we otherwise in consensus, then?" Billy glances from face to face. That none of them oppose further convinces him that it's the right decision. "I'd like to call a press conference as early as Monday. I realize that only gives you the weekend to prepare, but the sooner we reveal the sooner I can get the next phase of the plan going."

Adam frowns. "Two days doesn't give us much time to do anything about our privacy."

"I know. The problem is that without the money from the government, none of us can afford the measures we need for the privacy."

"I don't see why we need to reveal at all to get a government grant," Aisha says. "We just all teleport into the mayor or governor's office one day and make some demands. If they say no, we just stand around the next time a monster attacks and see how long it takes them to write a check."

"Or go down to the bank," Rocky says. "Can't cash a check made out to 'Power Rangers'."

Billy becomes suddenly aware of Tommy leaning heavily against him, but ignores him for the moment. "Rocky has a point. Unless they pay in cash, then we won't have any way of cashing the check, and furthermore, we don't want criminals to start dressing up like us and demanding money. I'm willing to put the reveal off for a week or two, but if the rest of you aren't ready by then, I may reveal my own identity alone, just to get things moving."

Aisha nods. "And like I said, you guys are welcome up in the mountains with me and Alejandro. His uncle has a cabin up there that probably won't be used until December. I'll ask if he'd be okay with some of us staying there off and on until then."

Billy grins. "That'd be great. Thank you."

Rocky's staring at him. "Is he asleep?"

Blinking, Billy glances at his shoulder, and realizes Tommy has dozed off leaning against him. It's such a funny sight he almost laughs, but, fearful of waking Tommy, manages to resist. "So it seems."

Kimberly catches his eye, her eyebrows lifted in surprise.

He wants to tell her it isn't what she thinks, but the moment isn't right. "Perhaps we ought to wrap this up, then. I won't reveal anything on Monday, but the rest of you should start making preparations. I would prefer to do this as a team."

"It'd certainly look cool," Rocky says, "with the five of us on a big stage, cameras rolling, taking our helmets off on national TV."

"Yes." Billy smiles. "It will be every reporter's dream assignment."

Kimberly shakes out her legs. "I'm kind of looking forward to it."

"It's the boutique, isn't it?" Aisha says. "I am _right _there with you, girl."

"Adam?"

He shrugs, but nods approvingly. "I think it'll work. Good job, Billy."

For the first time in a very long time, Billy feels that just maybe all is right with the world again.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter eleven:**

Not even Billy's usual complicated math equations can get him to sleep after the Ranger meeting. There are too many thoughts and scenarios unfolding in his mind, and behind it all the worry of how to sustain things for two weeks if the others want to hold off revealing their identities. Even if they don't, it's money is soon going to be in very short supply.

Finally giving up on sleep, Billy pads into the dining room to number crunch on his laptop. With proper budgeting and by perhaps selling off a few things online, he might be able to make it work.

"Hey, you can't sleep either?"

Blinking, Billy looks up to find Tommy leaning on the arch. He's wearing a pair of white silk pajamas Kimberly bought him and looks even sleepier than before. "I've got a lot on my mind. The next few weeks are going to be quite busy."

"Yeah." Tommy stifles a yawn. "I'm gonna make some cocoa. You want some?"

Billy stares at the numbers on the monitor before him, and then sighs. "Sure. That'd be nice."

Tommy brightens and disappears into the kitchen.

Billy decides to call in the morning and cut the cable television. He never has time to watch anymore and Tommy seems content with just cartoons. It might just keep him from catching unsettling news reports and save them quite a bit of money next month, too.

"Here you go." Tommy sets the mug down on the dining room table, but lingers near. "Math at this hour?"

Billy tilts the screen down slightly. There's no doubt in his mind that Tommy will start feeling burdened again if he realizes Billy's working out their expenses. "Number crunching usually helps me sleep." He picks up the mug and half closes his eyes at the warmth it imparts to his hands.

"Well, that's silly. You should come watch some TV with me."

Considering his plans to cut the cable, Billy chuckles. "I doubt there's anything on worth watching at this hour."

"That's why we have videos." Tommy gives Billy's arm a tug. "Come on. You're supposed to be sleeping. Might as well relax if you're not."

Billy could argue with that logic, but he's tired and not making much progress anyway. "I'm not sure I can sit through another rendition of Hakuna Matata."

"Why not? It's a _wonderful_ phrase!"

Billy swats at Tommy and follows him into the living room. Though he tries to get Tommy to watch something else, _The Lion King_ is what's in the VCR and once settled neither of them are willing to get off the couch to switch it out.

It's amusing, in a way, to listen to Tommy hum along. By the time Simba is running away from his pride, Billy's eyes are lidded and heavy. It's a wonder he hasn't tried to watch Disney films to get to sleep before. Deciding to stop the film and go back to bed after Simba grows up, Billy closes his eyes and listens.

And then wakes up sore and warm to the sound of his radio alarm going off in the distance.

Groaning, he sits up and discovers Tommy passed out on the couch pressed up next to him. His senses come alive instantly as he realizes what happened. Sunlight streams through the front window and his alarm tells him it's eight. His back is warm from where it was pressed up against Tommy, but the crisp October morning is quite cold against his face. The fleece blanket has somehow ended up wrapped around their legs, and Billy's almost loath to escape the warmth.

Tommy certainly looks peaceful sleeping there.

Uncomfortable with just how comfortable it feels, Billy carefully untangles himself from Tommy and the blanket and gets to his feet. He shivers and goes to close the curtains. Back in his bedroom, he turns off the alarm and sits on his bed. It's Saturday and he quit his job. There's no reason at all to get up.

Unwilling to wake Tommy up by making coffee or breakfast, Billy has a warm shower and puts some warmer clothes on, but ends up just sitting on his bed again, aimless.

It's Tommy crying out in his sleep that finally draws Billy out of his bedroom. Finding it strange that he wasn't disturbed by Tommy's nightly terrors at all over the last few hours, Billy sits down on the couch beside him and gently puts a hand on Tommy's shoulder. He doesn't stop trembling completely, but it does subside considerably.

Billy tucks the blanket more securely around Tommy and smiles when he stops twisting in his sleep all together.

"Billy?"

He starts slightly. "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."

"S'all right." Tommy blinks groggily. "Where'm I?"

"We fell asleep on the couch." Sighing, Billy goes and shuts off the TV and VCR. "Impressive, really. I usually can't sleep through television."

Stretching, Tommy sits up. "Suppose you sleep better to Disney musicals than you realized." He yawns. "I feel really good for having slept on a couch for a few hours."

Billy feels rotten, but he doesn't say as much. "I should really spend a few hours in the Command Center working on the zords. Do you think Rocky will be up for having you at the dojo today?"

"Sure. I've been helping him teach his Saturday classes lately. It's been a lot of fun, actually. He's even picked up a few more students. Just let me shower."

"I'll get some breakfast going."

"Thanks."

For a moment, Tommy looks like he's going to say something else, but then he shrugs and disappears into his bedroom. Billy stares at the crumpled blanket on the couch for a few seconds before folding it up neatly and heading into the kitchen.

"So, you fell asleep on the same couch together?" Rocky's holding the punching bag as Tommy unloads into it. "That's _great_, isn't it?"

Tommy throws a few more punches into it. It feels so good to work his arms like this, but his head isn't in agreement. "I don't know. I can't read him at all. Sometimes I'm convinced he's interested and other times I'm certain he finds the idea revolting."

"No way, man. I thought you two were together from the start. Really, I did. I had no idea you weren't until you said something."

"That's 'cause Adam filled your head with lies."

"No. I mean, he tried, but that wasn't it. Man, Tommy. I think he really likes you. He wouldn't go through all that trouble for you if he didn't."

"Wouldn't he? He feels responsible for me." He punches the bag again. "And that's another thing, right? He was up because he couldn't sleep after the Ranger meeting. He didn't want me to see what he was working on, but I could tell it was some sort of budget. We're so screwed for money." He throws a few more punches at the bag.

"Well, if Billy's plan works about, you know, the identities and stuff, you won't have to worry about that for much longer."

"Yeah, but we might be living on the streets before it does!" He throws one final punch before turning his back to the bag. "I just wish I could help! All I do is eat his food and spend his money."

"Hey, there's an idea." Rocky jogs to catch up with him as he starts across the dojo. "Listen, with all the new students we've been taking on, Adam's been thinking about offering another class. We've got a _lot_ of beginner students and it's just not fair to keep lumping them in with the intermediates 'cause we don't have enough time for more classes." He shrugs. "Maybe _you_ could run a beginner class for us?"

Tommy spins around to stare at him. "Man, that sounds amazing, but. You guys need the money just as much as we do. Anyway, I can't imagine Adam'd ever let me do it. He can hardly stand me."

"You're practically already teaching classes here and Billy's paying me for watching you, too. Look, if you're interested, I'll talk to Adam and maybe we can work something out. We'll get Billy to stop paying me and put in a new class for you. I mean, it won't be _much_, but at least it'd be something, right?"

Tommy rubs his knuckles, sore from punching. "That'd be really great, Rocky. I understand if Adam won't let you, but, man. I really think it would help out."

Rocky grips his shoulder and gives it a squeeze. "Hey, it's really no problem. That's what friends are for, right? Anyway, I think . . . well, Adam may not ever be one-hundred percent okay with everything, but he's really come around. I think he's finally starting to see what a cool dude you are."

Tommy chuckles. "Yeah. He seemed . . . I dunno, a lot calmer at the meeting last night. It'd be cool if we could all be friends."

"It's definitely gonna happen. Just give it time." He inclines his head. "C'mon, I'll show you the lesson structure I use for the beginners. Nothing you don't do already, but never hurts to review."

Somehow, despite only four hours of sleep, Billy manages to finish repairing the zords and getting the Eaglezord operational without the Gold Ranger powers. It's an achievement he'd be far more proud about if he weren't so tired. Before leaving for home, he lays the groundwork for some of his future plans, one of which includes a secondary control room where he can work without Zordon staring down at him the whole time.

It's with considerable surprise that he comes home to find the sun has set and Tommy's made dinner.

"What's all this?" He's a little overwhelmed.

"I got back and you weren't home yet. I uh, wanted to keep busy so I thought I'd make dinner."

It isn't fancy by any means, and goes off the food schedule Billy prepared, but he can't complain. It's too nice to sit down to an already prepared meal. "It's a very nice surprise. Thank you. I'm sorry you had to come home to an empty house." He looks Tommy over. "You seem okay."

"Yeah. I'm . . . not going to do anything stupid when I'm alone anymore. It was strange though." He takes a sip of his drink. "You must've been busy up in the Command Center."

"I finally figured out how to get the Eaglezord to operate without running off the Zeo Crystal." Off Tommy's confused expression, he explains. "The Zeo Crystal is . . . was a powerful energy source we discovered beneath the Moon Palace. It's power was immense and, after some considerable trial and error, Alpha and I were able to channel it into a constructing a new Ranger and zord to help us during the war."

"Jason. I had wondered."

"Yes. He was the only one capable of controling such an immense power, and even then, it was very dangerous. He could only morph for short periods of time or else risk the power of the crystal burning him up from inside."

Tommy's eyes widen. "That sounds really dangerous. What happened?"

It's strange to tell Tommy about Ranger events without him cringing. Trusting that Tommy's asking what happened because he's prepared for the answer, Billy continues, but nevertheless keeps it succinct. "Zedd and Rita were whittling us down at the time with a constant barrage of monsters. Zedd sent out one of his ultimatums: he'd stop attacking if Jason gave himself, and the Zeo power, to Goldar. He just didn't make that ultimatum to _me_. He made it to Jason and only Jason."

"He had to know it was a trap."

"He did. It's my understanding he went in not expecting to come back." Billy stares at his food. "Without going into much detail, I'll just say that Jason ended up destroying the Zeo Crystal to keep it out of Lord Zedd's hands, and that Zack is never, ever going to let me talk Jason into taking up Ranger powers again."

Tommy runs a hand through his hair. "Wow. I knew something had happened, I just . . . didn't know quite what. How did you end up defeating them, then?"

Billy shakes his head. "Maybe another time, when we're not trying to eat dinner."

"Yeah, good point." Tommy takes a few bites of his food. "Oh, so, Rocky set me up teaching one of his classes today. It was just a trial run, really, pending Adam's approval, but he's pretty confident he's going to give me the job." Tommy smiles slightly. "It wouldn't be much money, but I figured it might help. And since I'm doing a lot better being left alone these days, you don't have to keep paying Rocky to babysit me."

Billy blinks a few times. "Well, this is a most unexpected occurrence. Congratulations, Tommy. That's . . . well, that's really quite prestigious."

"It's just teaching a bunch of little kids; it's really nothing big."

Billy can't help but laugh. His memories of Tommy in that filthy club, telling him to leave and never come back are still much too vivid. "I think it's wonderful. Don't sell yourself short."

"I admit it . . . it feels good to be useful."

"It feels good to see you happy."

After dinner, Billy lets Tommy talk him into another movie. He resists sleep only because he knows if he passes out at eight he'll wake up again in the middle of the night. His brain is much too overworked to tackle the expense spreadsheet, so he finds himself curled up on the couch, watching Tommy sort through the tapes to choose a film. Billy stifles a yawn. "So long as it's not _The Lion King_ again, please."

"I thought you liked that movie."

"I did. The first five times." He pulls one of the throw pillows into his lap. "Just hurry up; you're losing me fast."

Grinning, Tommy pops in a tape and hurries back to the couch. Throwing the fleece blanket over them both, he curls up close to Billy.

The warmth is nice, and Tommy smells surprisingly good after his shower. Billy feels his eyes drooping before the Disney logo has even faded off the screen. "Do me a favor," he says, leaning against Tommy.

"Anything."

"If I fall asleep again, wake me up so I can get into my bed properly."

"I promise."

When Billy wakes up in bed the next morning, he's not entirely sure just how he got there.

It's something of a surprise to walk into the dojo and see Adam already there, working through a kata. Tommy's seen him at the dojo a few times since their initial meeting, but he's gotten quite use to it just being he and Rocky. And, although Adam had a black bandanna tied over his hair, his _gi_ is dark green and it sends a chill through Tommy. He hadn't realized how much he still associated the color with his past.

"Hey, Tommy," Adam says, finally noticing him.

"Uh. Hope I didn't disrupt your warm up."

"Nah. Just haven't been able to practice in so long, thought I'd get a little in today. Didn't expect to see you here so early."

"Oh. Billy wanted to drive up to the mountains to see that cabin Aisha mentioned. We weren't sure I'd be back in time for my class tonight, so I decided to stay home and come in early." He bites his lower lip. "Uh, Rocky's talked to you about the classes, right?"

"Oh, yeah. Don't worry about it. Hey, how about you and I spar a bit? It'll be a much better warm up for both of us."

Tommy brightens. "Really? That'd be awesome. Just give me a few minutes to get ready."

Adam doesn't spar at all like Rocky. Though they both started from similar kung fu styles, Adam is swift and light on his feet, putting up quite a contrast to Rocky's more direct brute strength. Though Tommy doesn't want to admit it, Rocky's also been handicapping himself to compensate for Tommy's sake. He still remembers the moves, but his body hasn't been conditioned enough yet to respond the way he remembers it.

Adam doesn't pull his punches or handicap his skills. Sweat is pouring off Tommy within minutes and Adam's still going strong and fast. As they circle each other, Tommy wipes the sleeve of his _gi_ across his sweaty brow. It feels like Adam is testing him a lot more than it feels like they're having a friendly spar. It'd be disconcerting if Adam didn't look almost as winded and out-of-shape as Tommy feels.

"You're good," Adam says after nearly twenty minutes. "You've built your strength back up pretty quickly."

Not wanting to exhaust himself before his first class, Tommy bows out, content to concede defeat to Adam. "Rocky's helped me a lot. And Billy."

One of Adam's eyebrows rises. "Billy's been training you?"

"Oh. Well, no. I just mean . . . he's helped with food and a nice place to sleep and. You know." His mind wanders back to just how warm and comfortable it felt to have Billy sleeping against him on the couch. It sends his skin tingling and he quickly shakes his head to put it out of his mind. "It'd be nice to get him training here though, wouldn't it? Maybe after . . . uh, you know."

"Yeah." Adam grabs a towel off a peg on the wall, wiping the sweat off his neck. "Still don't know how I feel about all that. Seems pretty risky to me."

"Yeah. But, it's Billy. He knows what he's doing."

"Hey, guys!" Rocky practically bounces through the door. "You're both here so early!"

"We were just doing a little warm up sparring. Tommy's pretty good." Adam wanders toward the back office. "Good luck with your first class! I'll be watching!"

Once he disappears into the office, Tommy picks up his water thermos and takes a long drink. "That was kind of weird."

Rocky's grinning. "What? Adam taking an interest in you teaching a class?"

"Yeah, I guess. I dunno. Just seemed off somehow."

"You're just nervous." Rocky slaps him affectionately. "C'mon, let's pull the mats out."

The class goes as well as Tommy could have expected. Adam does more than watch, but he doesn't undermine Tommy's authority and only helps to address kids struggling behind as Tommy attempts to focus on each one individually. He's invited out to dinner afterward and is absolutely beat by the time he makes it home. The October sun is already sinking in the sky and the temperature is dropping rapidly.

Frowning, Tommy notices the house lights are out. After a frantic search for his house key, he realizes he left it—and his water bottle—back at the dojo. Panic instantly grips him and he swallows hard, trying to fight it down. He tries the front door, but it's locked. On instinct, he looks under the welcome mat, but there's no spare key.

He's locked himself out of the house and left his spare key miles and miles away and it's getting dark and Billy's not home. Crouching down in front of the door, Tommy hugs his knees.

"I'm so stupid." With no way to contact Billy, or even Rocky and Adam, Tommy can do nothing but wait. As the seconds tick into minutes, he envisions Billy coming home and finding him like this, crouched on the porch. The imagined looked of disappointment in Billy's eyes sends hot shame through Tommy. He was doing so much better. Billy sometimes even seemed proud of him. Now he's fucked it all up in one evening.

His heart rate speeds up with every car that approaches and crashes each time it drives past. After the last of the sunlight has faded, Tommy begins to shiver and the hot tears streaking down his face become harder to ignore.

What if something's happened to Billy? What if he came home, saw Tommy and kept driving because he didn't want to deal with him like this? What if he left a message on the machine saying he had to stay overnight in the mountains for some reason? Anything could have happened. Even if he does come home tonight, he'll not want to deal with Tommy like this. He's been working hard all day for the Rangers and expects to come home to dinner and the money Tommy earned from his job. Tommy's a wreck. Billy won't want to deal with him like this. He shouldn't _have_ to deal with him like this.

Tommy's panic increases and he gasps for breath a few times, trying to keep calm and failing. Billy's going to be so disappointed in him. Tommy's going to be on the streets again. He's going to have to go crawling back to Mack and beg forgiveness and the things Mack will put him through to take him back make him start sobbing. He can't go back to that. He just can't go through that again.

He's so fucking useless and pathetic.

"Tommy?"

He nearly jumps out of his skin at the word and the feel of a hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he sees Billy's concerned face peering down at him and he doesn't know _how_ Billy got there because he certainly didn't hear his car—and yet his peripheral vision shows it parked in the driveway.

"Tommy, what's wrong? What are you doing out here?"

He tries to form coherent words, but all that comes out is a sort of soft wail. It takes several tries to get a full breath, and even then he only manages a watery, "I'm _sorry_."

"Let's get you inside."

Tommy isn't aware of anything but Billy's strong, warm arm slipping around him and helping him to his feet. He expects Billy to shove him away in disgust, but it doesn't happen. Instead, the front door opens and soon there are bright lights and he's on the couch.

"You're freezing. How long have you been out there?"

Billy wraps the fleece blanket around him and touches his forehead. Only then does Tommy start shivering, teeth chattering together like in the movies. "F-f-forgot my keys."

"Is that all?" Using his thumb, Billy wipes the tears off Tommy's cheeks and then pulls Tommy's hands into his, chaffing them warmer. "You locked yourself out?"

Tommy nods miserably.

"You're not hurt?"

Tommy shakes his head.

"That's all right then, isn't it?" Billy smiles at him. "Let me get you something warm to drink." He's gone only a few minutes, but it seems like forever. When he returns, he presses a hot mug of cocoa into Tommy's hands.

"Thanks," Tommy whispers and wraps his hands around the hot mug. After a few sips, he does feel better. Billy sits beside him, and that makes him feel better, too. Sniffing once, he palms his eyes dry one more time. "Forgot all my stuff at the dojo."

"It's all right. I should have been home, anyway. I neglectfully spent too long up in the mountains with Aisha and got caught in some terrible traffic on the way home. If I'd had any idea you were stranded, I would have left my car up there and teleported home." He reaches out and gently pushes Tommy's hair back behind his ears.

After all his fears, the feel of Billy's hand on his face is heaven. Tommy's eyes flutter closed for a moment and he finds he wants nothing more than to curl up against him and be stroked and held.

"We'll have to get you a cell phone. I should have thought of that ages ago." He strokes Tommy's hair again. "Are you going to be all right?"

Nodding, Tommy barely manages to set aside his mug before he collapses against Billy, burying his face against his collar.

"Hey. It's . . . it's all right."

To Tommy's relief, Billy wraps his arms around him and just holds him. It's the most wonderful feeling in the world and it almost makes the ordeal of getting locked outside worth it. He almost lets out a little sound of delight as Billy starts petting his hair again. Some part of him knows he's acting absolutely ridiculous, but it feels so soothing that the rest of him doesn't care.

"Did your class go all right?"

Tommy nods.

"That's good. I'm proud of you." Billy shifts his weight slightly, supporting Tommy even more. "The mountains are beautiful this time of year. We'll have to go see them together sometime. Aisha's uncle, Darrel, has a nice little cabin. It's too small for five or six people living there full time, but it would make a good get away for anyone who needs it." He strokes Tommy's hair a little longer. "Have you eaten dinner?"

Tommy nods again.

"Good. I'd hate to think you were hungry all that time." He sighs softly. "Feeling a little better?"

Smiling slightly, Tommy nods again.

"Can you talk and you're just choosing not to?"

Grinning now, Tommy nods.

"I'm glad. And I think you ought to go take a shower to warm up so I can eat some dinner myself. Do you think we can do that?"

Tommy nods once more, and then lifts his face. The view of Billy from this distance is breathtaking, and he remembers Rocky's words from earlier and judges Billy's reaction. Is he just imagining the quickening of Billy's breath, or the way his pupils dilate?

He certainly doesn't imagine the glance Billy gives to his mouth before gently pushing Tommy back. "I just remembered I've got a spare communicator in the garage. I should be able to modify it so you can call me on it, but block Ranger signals from Zordon."

Tommy lets the moment pass and watches Billy slide off the couch and disappear into the garage. He's no closer to knowing Billy's mind considering their situation, but he _does_ feel much better and is finally confident that a shower after training all day can only improve things.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter twelve:**

"This communicator isn't as functional as I had anticipated." Billy tosses the watch-like device on the living room table. "I think it would be easier for me to build a new one than to spend the time modifying the old one. I only wish I had all of my tools from my old lab."

Tommy slides into the dining room chair diagonal from him. "Whatever did happen to your old lab?"

Billy sighs. "My house was destroyed during one of the monster attacks during the war." Billy shrugs. "Most of the houses in Angel Grove were. The insurance claims basically bankrupted the entire city." He leans back, weary. "I was able to afford this place after my father passed away, but the sort of technology I had in that lab . . ." He shakes his head. "It's irreplaceable. I only even have the communicator because it was in the Command Center at the time."

"Well, hopefully you'll be able to buy things again once you start getting government grants and things. Right?"

Billy smiles. "Right. And now that I'm not working, I should have time to modify this back in the Command Center."

Tommy bites his lower lip. "Are you headed there today?"

"I don't see why not." Billy glances at Tommy. "I know you didn't have plans to go to the dojo today, but I thought you might not mind a few hours alone tonight. You did well in therapy yesterday and Brian suggested we start trying some limited time apart. I think, so long as you stay in the house, it shouldn't be a problem."

The thought turns Tommy's stomach, but he doesn't want to be a disappointment. "How . . . how long do you think you'll be gone?"

Billy picks up the communicator again. "Two . . . maybe three hours?"

That's not even the length of two movies. Tommy can do that. "All right. What if I need to contact you?"

"Unfortunately, there's no easy way to keep in touch with me, but in the case of an emergency, you can always call Rocky or Kim, or of course the police. If I'm going to be gone longer than three hours, I promise I'll get in contact with you first." He gets up and heads toward the kitchen. "I've got lunch ready for you in the fridge. You don't even need to heat it up. There's also fresh fruit."

Tommy follows him, feeling lost. "You'll be back before dark, right?"

"Of course. Don't be ridiculous; night is hours away. I'll probably be back before lunch. Come on. I saw a Scooby Doo marathon on earlier." He picks up the remote in the living room and soon has the cartoon playing the background.

Tommy doesn't follow him. He doesn't want Billy to leave at all. Not even for two or three hours in the middle of the day. It's irrational and he knows it, but it's nevertheless a real fear.

Noticing him lingering by the kitchen archway, Billy moves back toward him. "You're sure you're all right with me going?"

Tommy wants to say no; wants Billy to read the words in his eyes and understand, but he smiles and nods. "Probably won't even notice you're gone."

"Good. All right then." Pocketing the broken communicator, Billy puts his hand on his own. "I'll see you in a few hours then."

"See you."

In a brilliant flash of blue, Billy teleports out of the house. Tommy thinks he can taste the energy from the morphing grid this close; it's like the ozone in a lightning storm. He swallows and, shaking his head, heads to the living room and the television.

The first hour crawls by unbearably slow. Hoping to make the second past faster, Tommy pushes the couch back to make room in front of the television and starts an intense work out session. When he's finished, he takes a cool, quick shower and collapses on the couch for a nap. It's easy to pretend Billy's napping there with him, and that when he wakes it will be from Billy teleporting back into the living room.

He's not sure how much time has passed when he wakes, but it isn't due to Billy standing in front of him. The television is still on, but the wacky cartoon hijinks have been replaced by a breaking news report. Tommy's about to switch the television off when he realizes they're reporting on a new monster attack.

He sits up groggily, realizing he's been asleep for almost two hours. On the television, reports come in and he's horrified to see it's not just one attack, but multiple monsters in different cities. Footage is shown of the Mega Ninjazord attacking a monster in one city only for the news reports to switch to another monster attacking an undefended city somewhere else.

It's not like any monster attack Tommy has ever seen, and from the reactions of the news reporters, it's unlike anything they've ever seen, either. Tommy's instantly awake, stomach in knots, eyes glued to the television. He wants desperately to call someone, but it's in vain—neither Rocky nor Kimberly will answer if he tries.

While he watches, the Eaglezord appears separate from the other zords and begins attacking one of the monsters in a different city. It's clear to Tommy that there's no one in the zord; it's being remotely controlled, but the reporters seem unable to grasp that that's the reason why it's performing so badly. Instead, they spend most of the broadcast talking about how they haven't seen the Gold Ranger in recent months and speculate on whether this means he's returning.

In the end, the Eaglezord returns to the first city and combines with the Mega Ninjazord to form the Mega Eaglezord. With that combined strength, they're finally able to take out the first monster. With the Eaglezord attached, they're can take flight, and the camera switches to an aerial view of a police helicopter chasing after the Power Rangers as they head toward the second monster.

There are six separate attacks in all. The sun sets well before they take them all out, and several cities stand in ruins before they do. The Mega Eaglezord sustains heavy damage in several of the battles, getting knocked to the ground more than once.

Tommy's absolutely quaking by the time the monster threat is declared over and the zords disband and disappear. The news plays in the background, with reporters throwing up casualty reports and damage estimates, but Tommy has to turn it off. The wait from seeing the zords on his television until hearing from Billy is unbearable. He knows they're debriefing. He knows they're recovering. He knows they need time, and yet not knowing if they're hurt or not, or if Vile has somehow controlled them leaves him clammy and sick.

The silence in the house after having the news on all day is nearly deafening.

When at last Billy finally does teleport in, Tommy almost can't believe it. It's been an hour and his whole body has gone numb. Tommy gets to his feet and grabs Billy at almost the same moment Billy slumps into him.

He's heavy and exhausted and easy to hold.

"Oh, God," Tommy gasps. "Are you all right?" He pulls back just enough to look Billy over for injuries and wounds. "I was so, so worried."

"I'm fine," Billy says, his voice relaying his weariness. "I take it you were watching the news?" He doesn't pull away from Tommy, going so far as to rest his brow against Tommy's shoulder.

"I had to." Tommy's proud of himself for not breaking down immediately. He's so close, but for once _Billy_ needs _his_ support.

Billy shivers once. "Vile's dangerous. He knows what he's doing. The zords took heavy damage. Alpha has them in the repair bays, but they'll need manual maintenance to be optimal again." Billy's weigh slips against Tommy more. "I'm so tired. I wanted to stay and help, but I'm no use to anyone like this. I have to get some sleep."

"You're all right. I've got you." Tommy takes a few steps, navigating them toward the couch.

At the last moment, Billy resists. "No, I've got to . . . I need to get into my bed. I need good rest; I can't fall asleep on the couch tonight."

"Oh." A chill sweeps through Tommy at the thought of Billy going to sleep right now, leaving him alone again after having waited for hours to hear from him. "Are the others okay?"

"Everyone's shaken up, but we're physically all right."

"The Eaglezord . . . that wasn't Jason, was it?"

Billy looks up at him and, as if noticing for the first time how close they are, takes a step back. "No. No. I managed to get it to operate via remote control. Not that it did any good."

Hot tears prick Tommy's eyes as Billy pulls away. He furiously blinks them away, determined to be strong. "You fought them all off. You ought to be proud of that."

"Considering the damage they caused first, it's hardly call for a celebration." Billy glances around. "Did you eat?"

"I . . . couldn't get away from the TV."

From somewhere deep inside, Billy pulls up a reserve of energy. Tommy watches his shoulders straighten and his chin lift. "Let's have dinner first, then."

He heats up the oven while Tommy watches, and in twenty minutes they're having casserole leftovers at the dining room table. Tommy's only halfway through his meal when he finally breaks. His fork clatters to the table and his buries his face in his hands so Billy can't see him crying.

"Tommy?"

"I'm sorry," he gasps and has to stay quiet as sobs shake his shoulders. "I can't help it. It just . . ." Tommy takes a deep drink of his water, but it doesn't help much. "Dunno what I'd do if you didn't come back. Just sitting here, helpless, watching TV. I'm so useless." He shakes his head, furious with himself. "You're tired. You don't . . . you don't have time to deal with me like this. I'm sorry, Billy. Just . . . just ignore me. I'll be all right." He takes a few deep breaths, but then the thought of losing all of this again grips him and he's once again racked with sobs.

Reaching across the table, Billy slides his hand over Tommy's. "It's okay to be upset. Sometimes, I wish I could share my emotions so freely." He gives Tommy's hand a squeeze. "C'mon, it's late. We should both be in bed."

Tommy manages to bide a little time by brushing his teeth, but then Billy's tucking him into bed and preparing to leave. Afraid of his voice cracking he can't manage to speak, but when Billy turns to go, Tommy reaches out and catches his wrist.

The look in Billy's eyes is heartbreaking. "I can't stay up to make sure you fall asleep tonight."

It feels like the cruelest thing in the world to ask, but Tommy whispers, "Please, Billy." He desperately doesn't want to be alone and he doesn't know how else to ask.

Billy blinks very slowly, wavering on his feet, but finally nods. "For just a few minutes."

He starts to reach for the chair, but Tommy scoots over enough for Billy to sit down on the edge of the double bed.

Without questioning, Billy kicks off his shoes and puts his feet up, leaning against the headboard. His breath comes out in a low, exhausted sigh. "Didn't even get your communicator fixed. All that work I did on the Eaglezord will have to be redone." He squeezes his eyes closed. "I'll have to enhance all the individual zords if Vile's going to send more multiple attacks like that. We can't . . . be in six places at once."

"Shh, it's all right, for now."

Billy shakes his head, but doesn't open his eyes. "Pushes everything back. Fixing the zords, the reveals, the government grants, money." He slides down slightly. "Can't just . . . sit around waiting for Vile to launch another attack like that." He yawns. "Have to prepare a counter attack. Can't keep following Zordon's rules. Sometimes . . . some battles . . . have to be escalated."

"Figure that stuff out tomorrow," Tommy whispers. He rolls onto his side, looking at Billy. It's so rare to see him half asleep like this. He wants nothing more than to reach up and cup Billy's face in his hand and to feel Billy lean into it. The thought alone terrifies Tommy, though not enough to make him not want it.

"There were just so many," Billy says, half murmuring. "Didn't know where to go first . . ." He pauses. "Took too long deciding. Too many disadvantages." His head droops, and his words come out softer. "So much damage. I was too slow." He sighs. "Too . . ."

Tommy waits, but Billy doesn't finish the sentence. It takes a considerable while before Tommy realizes Billy's fallen asleep. His breath falls, slow and regular, and his head slowly tilts until his chin is nearly resting on his chest.

After watching for several minutes, trying to decide what to do, Tommy reaches up and gently takes Billy's glasses off, folding them up to rest on the nightstand. Very gently, he sits up and tugs the sheets out from under them and then covers Billy. He doesn't have to do anything else. As soon as the covers are around him, Billy shifts onto his side, automatically positioning himself on the pillow.

Tommy turns out the light and settles back in, careful not to touch Billy despite the relative narrowness of the double bed. His nightlight provides enough illumination that he can watch Billy sleep.

It's strange how old Billy sometimes looks to him these days, and how strained. Yet, asleep like this, his features relax and Tommy can see the young man still in his early twenties. He reaches out at last to finally let himself gently brush his fingers over Billy's soft blond hair before snuggling up beside him.

Like this, it's suddenly so easy to drift off to sleep.

Tommy wakes not to nightmares or sunlight but a sudden movement next to him, and a quick inhalation of breath. Disoriented at first, he opens his eyes to find Billy still asleep, caught up in a nightmare of his own. It's such a role reversal that at first, he doesn't know what to do. The digital clock on his dresser says it's almost seven in the morning, but dawn has only just begun.

He props himself up. "Hey, Billy. Hey. It's all right." He reaches over and turns the lamp on.

The light works and Billy's eyes fly open. He sees Tommy a second later and jerks back in surprise, nearly falling out of bed. He squints. "Tommy?"

"You were having a bad dream."

Relieved, Billy flops back down, pressing a hand to his chest. A moment later he glances around. He spies his glasses on the nightstand and puts them on. "Did I fall asleep in here?"

"Yeah." Tommy curls on his side. "You were so tired, I didn't want to wake you."

"It's fine." Sliding his hand under his glasses, he presses his fingers to his eyelids. "I wish that had all been a dream." Sighing, he swings his legs out of bed, letting the cold morning air slip between the warm covers. "I've got so much to do." He rubs his shoulder.

"Are you hurt?" Tommy wishes he'd stayed in bed. He wishes he could offer a massage, too.

"Just a little sore." Billy continues talking as he walks into the kitchen, forcing Tommy to leave the warmth of his bed to follow. He stumbles once, catching himself on the wall. "I'm going to have to spend the next few days in the Command Center, repairing the zords. Will you be all right spending all that time with Rocky?"

Tommy crosses his arms and dances from foot-to-foot on the cold kitchen tile. "I think so. He's all right?"

"We're all all right, physically." Billy nearly drops the coffee pot as he takes it to the sink to fill up. "Just a little tired."

"Let me." Tommy easily takes the pot from Billy and fills it with cold water. He's not completely sure how to make coffee, but Billy helps him out and soon it's percolating. Outside, the sky begins to brighten with the rising sun. "How bad are the zords?"

Billy sags against the counter. "Bad. I won't know for sure until I do a full inventory today. We've got maintenance bays these days for this sort of thing, so I'm hoping most of it can be fixed automatically, but I know there are things in the Ninja Megazord cockpit I'll have to handle separately, and I'll probably have to do all of the Eaglezord repairs manually."

"What'll you do if Vile attacks before they're done?"

Billy gives him a look. "Let's just hope he's recovering as much as we are right now."

"I take it this means the identity reveal is on hold."

"Yeah." Billy squeezes his shoulder with his opposite hand then shakes his head. "No offense, but can the questions wait until after I've had my first cup of coffee?"

"Oh, yeah. Of course. Sorry."

Billy pours himself a cupt from the freshly brewed pot and takes what must be a scalding sip. "It's all right. I've been meaning to quit for years; I just never have the time to deal with the withdrawals."

Tommy doesn't say anything, waiting patiently until Billy's drained the first mug. "Better?"

"Yeah. Just . . . need to shower and make some toast and I'll get out of here." He glances at the clock. "It's probably too early to wake Rocky and Adam up. Will you be all right by yourself for a few hours?"

After the fear of yesterday, Tommy wants to say no, but he manages to keep from breaking down. "How will I contact you if something happens again?"

"Oh, the communicator, right." Billy looks at him. "I promise I'll finish that first. I'll get it to you before you leave for Rocky's."

"Promise?"

Tommy can tell the caffeine is working; Billy manages his first smile since yesterday. "I promise. I won't ever allow a repeat of what happened yesterday. I'm proud of you. You held together very well in a very bad situation."

"You should've seen me before you got back."

"Even so, you did well. You're certainly not the Tommy I brought home from the club in September."

It's silly, but Tommy smiles slightly. "Yeah. I guess that's true."

After a shower and some eggs and toast, Billy teleports out. It's not as strange staying behind as it used to be, though Tommy wishes he weren't alone so much. It's good to see Rocky again, if nothing else.

Billy comes home late, dead on his feet, and changes instantly into pajamas. He has a quick dinner and somehow they end up talking in Tommy's bed again. Tommy would never swear to it, but part of him suspects that while the day before was a fluke, tonight Billy falls asleep there intentionally. Tommy still has to take off his glasses and turn out the light, but Billy doesn't have another nightmare.

Although there isn't another attack, Brian calls the next morning to ask if Tommy needs to reschedule his Thursday appointment.

"No, that's important," Billy says. "We'll make time for that."

Tommy's grateful. Not only does he want to discuss things with Brian, he wants to tell him about Billy's reaction to sleeping in bed with him. He showed no sign of disorientation upon waking this time, though he did apologize as he shuffled off to the kitchen.

Tommy's glasses arrive on Thursday and it's only Billy's insistence that they look good on him that keeps Tommy wearing them. When he stares at himself in the mirror, he doesn't recognize the bespeckled, curly-haired man in a sweater that stares back.

The therapy session on Thursday goes off better than Tommy expected, though after catching Brian up on his current life, he ends up near tears a few times throughout the session. He's somber when they finish, but Billy buoys his mood by saying how quickly the zord repairs are coming along.

On Friday, the Rangers have another group meeting about their secret identities and decide that, assuming another devastating attack doesn't happen by the following Monday, they'll do their reveals. On top of the necessity, it'll be just after Halloween and thus strangely appropriate.

"Hey, uh, Kim," Tommy says after the meeting has winded down. "Have you told Skull yet? How'd he take it?"

Her eyes widen slightly and she sighs. "Ugh, Skull. He says he knew! I don't believe him, but he's been acting all haughty about it since I told him." She puts her hand to her brow. "He's mad that I won't let him tell Bulk before the big reveal and . . . I know he has every right in the world to be upset with me, especially given how we treated each other in high school. I just haven't wanted to deal with his attitude about it all lately."

"Oh man. That's too bad. You two are gonna work it out though, right?"

"I'm sure we will. He's certainly kept some secrets from me. Not on the same scale, granted, but everyone has their reasons." She sighs. "I do love him, crazy and insane as it is."

Tommy blinks, then smiles. "I didn't realize you two were so serious."

Kimberly stares up at him. "I guess I didn't really either. He's just really been there through it all with me. It's like I wouldn't know what to do if he wasn't around anymore, you know?"

Across the room, Tommy focuses on Billy, who is in deep conversation with Aisha. "Yeah. I know exactly what you mean."

During karate classes the following week, Tommy notices something _very_ unusual: Rocky looking depressed. None of the students seem to notice, but as soon as the dojo is empty and the front door is secured, Tommy addresses it.

"What's up, man? You've been down all night. You and Adam aren't fighting again, are you?"

"What? Oh." Rocky shrugs and heads toward the back office. "It's really nothing."

"You can't say something like that and just walk away."

"Well, I mean, there's no use complaining about something I can't change, right?"

"Who's to say? Change what?"

Rocky sits down in the office chair and stares at the screensaver on the computer. "You promise you won't tell Billy or . . . or Adam?"

Tommy's brow furrows. "Sure. I promise. You've kept my secrets. I can keep yours." He leans against the desk, crossing his arms. "What's up?"

Rocky lets out his breath. "It's about the identity reveal."

Tommy blinks. "You don't think it's a good idea?"

"It's not that. I get why Billy's doing it. I think it's a great idea, actually. I think there are a lot of money making-opportunities he'll be able to capitalize on, and we could all use that. I'm just worried that . . ." He shifts his gaze to a small framed photo on the desk featuring him and Adam standing close together in front of a theme park castle. "That, if he's suddenly got the whole world to choose from, Adam's not going to want to be with me anymore."

"_What_?" Tommy can't even blink the thought is so staggering.

"You don't know him that well. He's not . . . he's not really into guys. I don't even know why he's into me, really. Sometimes I think it's just because there's no one else. We've been through a lot together, and we know each other's secrets. If we weren't Power Rangers though . . ." Rocky shrugs. "I don't know; I don't think _we_ would have ever happened."

"Yeah, but, it did. He might not have intended it, but he's a Power Ranger. Power Rangers are loyal. I don't think Adam would throw it away just because his dating pool has suddenly expanded."

Rocky doesn't look away from the photo. "He thinks I'm stupid, you know. He only ever says it when he's really mad, but that's how I know it's true. I know I'm not the brightest crayon in the box. I know I don't give him the stimulating conversations he wants. I know he could do better."

"That's bullshit." The swear words finally make Rocky take his eyes off the frame. "If Adam doesn't appreciate all you do for him, then you're better off with him anyway."

"All I do for _him_? He's the one paying almost all the bills. He pays for the food and lets me live in his place."

"He pays for the food _you_ cook and the house _you_ clean. If you weren't in Adam's life, he'd be a fat slob sleeping on his couch every night, eating frozen pizzas 'cause he's too tired and too busy to cook."

Rocky frowns. "I don't think he'd be _fat_."

"Well, he wouldn't be as happy as he is now, and he's hardly a ray of sunshine. And he's damn lucky to have you. There's no way I'd stay with someone who called me stupid when he got really angry."

Rocky frowns. "He's right, though. And, he's a Power Ranger. He'll suddenly have access to tons of the beautiful, intelligent sort of women he's always wanted to date. I bet any of them would be willing to put up with his occasional bursts of anger. And, anyway, with a smart, pretty girl it wouldn't be true, so he'd never _have_ yelled at them like that."

It's almost too much for Tommy to take. "Rocky, you are _amazing_. If Adam's too blind to see that, then you really are better off with someone else. Don't think that the pretty, intelligent people are only going to be going after Adam, either. With the reveal, you'll have a whole host of suitors knocking on your door, too."

"Who, _me_?" Rocky laughs.

"I'm serious. You'd be quite a catch for someone."

Rocky shrugs. "But I don't want anyone but Adam."

"I know. He doesn't deserve you, but I know." He sighs and gives Rocky's shoulder a squeeze. "It'll be all right. Try not to worry about it. I don't think you have anything to fear."

Rocky studies him. "I guess I'm a little surprised. I thought, what with your situation with Billy and all, you'd be worried about the same thing."

For a moment, Tommy can only stare at Rocky. The enormity of the situation hits him a few seconds later; a brick wall of reality slamming into him. Soon, he's downing water from the cooler in an effort to avoid having a sudden panic attack.

It does nothing to settle the knots suddenly in his stomach. "Jesus, Rocky."

He's confident Adam won't leave Rocky, but Billy? He never had a reason to be interested in Tommy in the first place, did he?


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter thirteen:**

"So, this is it."

Billy glances into his bathroom mirror to see Tommy leaning on the door frame, peeking in. He nods and stares at his reflection one last time. "This is it."

"Are you nervous?"

"A little." Billy tugs his hair one last time before putting it out of his mind. He's not trying to be a movie star. "Mostly I'm anxious to get it out of the way so I can deal with everything that comes after."

"Well. Aisha and Alejandro just arrived. That's everybody."

"Then I had better stop fussing in the mirror." He starts out of the bathroom, but draws up short as he's about to pass Tommy. The uncertainty rolling off him doesn't take a genius to detect. "It's going to be all right."

"I know." He tries, and fails, at a smile. "I know it'll be better in the long run. I just . . ." He shakes his head. "Just be careful."

Billy smiles. "I will."

They come out of the master bedroom together, and Billy can tell which gazes see significance in that and which don't. Tommy immediately goes and sits himself between Kimberly and Rocky, even though it means nudging Skull out of the way.

Originally, Billy thought they ought to hold this meeting in the Command Center, but he quickly realized it wouldn't be right. It was only fair to involve Alejandro and Skull in this, and the location of the Command Center isn't something Billy wants to reveal. "I'm glad you all decided to show," Billy starts. "I know not everyone feels as strongly about this reveal as I do." He watches Kimberly turn her hand over to hold Skull's. "Our lives as we know them are about to drastically change forever. It's a huge step. Any one of you could have chosen to keep your identity secret, but we all decided, as a team, to go forward with this. It makes me very proud to be a Ranger.

"We are stronger together. With Master Vile's return, the world needs us more than ever. We are not doing this for fame or glory. We aren't even doing it for the money, though that will help us do our jobs better. We're doing it for the Earth, and because we can protect her better if we can focus all of our energy on being Power Rangers and keep our minds and bodies as stress-free and healthy as possible. It has been a long, hard six years. There have been ups and there have definitely been downs. Today should mark another up; a new chapter in our lives and one long overdue. Are the rest of you ready?"

Several heads nod, but it's not the enthusiasm he wants or needs. He puts his hand out, like they used to do back in high school. "Let's do this together."

Kimberly gets it first, releasing Skull's hand to get to her feet, placing her hand over Billy's. Aisha is next and they all turn to look at Rocky and Adam.

They exchange their own glances. Adam stands first and puts his hand on top of Aisha's. After a few seconds, Rocky, much more uneasily than Billy anticipated, puts his hands on top of Adam's.

As it sometimes happens, Billy doesn't need to say or cue anything. The Power just flows through them and, in unison, they shout, "Power Rangers!"

It feels good. It feels so good, Billy knows this is right. The others fall into place beside him, facing Tommy, Alejandro and Skull.

Heart pounding at the start of the reveal, they put their hands behind their backs, fingers slipping over morphers, and Billy calls out, "It's morphing time!"

"Black Ranger Power!"

"Pink Ranger Power!"

"Blue Ranger Power!"

"Yellow Ranger Power!"

"Red Ranger Power!"

When it's done, Skull and Alejandro burst into applause.

It feels absurd, but Billy knows they ought to get used to it. "We should be back in a few hours," he says.

Alejandro turns on the television. The news is already broadcasting live from Angel Grove's recently rebuilt city hall where a large podium and stage have been set up for the reveal. The sea of cameras facing it is immense. Billy's grateful for the power of the morphing grid flowing through him. Although he can feel his anxiety and fears, the grid calms them to completely manageable levels.

Skull stands up and goes to take Kimberly's hands. "Make me proud." He kisses the top of her helmet.

Aisha goes to hug Alejandro and Billy finds his eyes shifting to Tommy. He knows through the helmet that Tommy can't see him, but Tommy's eyes meet his anyway and Billy looks away.

"If all goes according to plan," the news reporter on television says, "the Power Rangers should be arriving at any moment, on this stage."

"Are we all ready?"

Everyone nods, and Billy's pleased to see that any of Rocky's hesitations have been quelled by the power as well.

"Then, let's do this." Hands to their belts, they teleport out of Billy's living room.

Their appearance on the stage sends ripples of shock and surprise through the large gathered crowd and soon, as Billy predicted, applause.

The mayor approaches, a spry woman with perfectly coifed silver hair, wearing a powder blue pants suit. "Welcome!" she says, her voice booming surprisingly well even against the cheers from the crowd.

With six cities still recovering from Vile's last attack, Billy feels the mood could be a bit more somber, but accepts that with great tragedy equally great celebration is needed.

The mayor continues. "We're so glad you could all make it today. This is such a momentous occasion. I wanted to thank you on behalf of Angel Grove for all the hard work you've all put in over the years."

Billy can tell she's not sure which of them to address, so he steps forward. "It has always been, and continues to be, our pleasure to defend the Earth as Power Rangers." The crowd finally starts to settle down, all ears straining to hear him. He turns to face them. "I am sure you are all wondering why, after so many years of secrecy, we've decided to reveal our secret identities.

"The reasons are numerous and diverse and will come out each in time. The most important reason of all, however, is that prior to this moment, we were not _allowed_ to disclose our identities. For those of you watching who may recognize or know us—please try not to feel deceived or betrayed. We answer to a power higher than ourselves, and the time before was never right. We did not mean to lie to or offend anyone. It should also be stressed that we are not doing this for fame or for fortune. We are not celebrities. We are just average citizens and as such, we expect our privacy to be respected."

"Oh, of _course_."

Billy glances at the mayor, but says nothing. She might be well intentioned, but she'll never be able to control the actions of the rest of the world. "I have no desire to waste your time or ours, so if you're all ready, I'd like to get this over with."

"Oh, it's all up to you!" She takes a quick step back.

It feels strange to face the crowd and cameras alone. For not the first time, Billy misses Jason's leadership skills. He would handle this with much more charisma and finesse. Knowing that the podium has been set up for maximum volume and photographic opportunity, Billy steps behind it. With the exception of the furious shutter of cameras, absolute silence descends over the crowd as Billy raises his hands and unsnaps and removes his helmet.

He gives his hair a shake, takes a deep breath and looks out at the crowd. "My name is William Cranston," he says. "I've been a Power Ranger since I was fifteen years old and a student at Angel Grove High. Until recently I was a computer technician at ValuTech Incorporated."

Not sure what else to say, he turns to the other Rangers. Adam steps forward first, and Billy moves aside to give him space at the podium. He removes his helmet just as quickly as Billy. "I'm Adam Park. I also attended Angel Grove High after transferring from Stone Canyon. I'm still employed at ValuTech and I also run a ninjitsu-karate dojo on the east side of town. I want to say that it has been a real pleasure serving all of you as the Black Ranger and that it feels _great_ to finally get to tell all of you that face-to-face."

The crowd responds with a burst of applause and cheering shouts. Adam smiles brilliantly and waves to them all for quite some time.

When he finally finishes, Aisha approaches the podium. She removes her helmet and gives her head a good toss, swinging her elaborately done braids over her shoulder. "Hi! I'm Aisha Campbell, the Yellow Ranger. And this mic was _definitely_ adjusted for someone _way_ taller than me." She attempts to adjust it down, and when that doesn't work, a security guard huffs on stage, carrying a brief case. He sets it down and Aisha steps onto it, thanking him briefly. "That's better. Here I am, a Power Ranger, and I almost get defeated by a podium!" The crowd laughs appreciatively. "I can't say how good it feels to finally be able to look at all of you and thank you for all the kind words you've said about us over the years. I really want to give my love to my parents and my grandmother, who have supported me through all of this, even when I couldn't tell them what I was going through, and my wonderful boyfriend Alejandro, who I'm sure is watching this on the television live right now." She waves. "I love you, baby!" Still smiling, she waves to the rest of the crowd. "I look forward to getting a chance to talk to all of you someday! Thank you, Angel Grove!"

The crowd roars again, waving and cheering.

Someone shouts, "Do the pink one next!"

Laughing, Aisha looks over at Kimberly and motions her to come over. The crowd cheers even more as she approaches and steps up onto the briefcase.

Once Aisha's moved back by Adam and Billy, Kimberly takes her helmet off. "Hi, I'm Kimberly Hart." Someone in the distance whistles and she narrows her eyes slightly. "I'm a secretary for a defense lawyer and I'd like to take this opportunity to quit." She smiles. "Outside of saving the world from monsters, I really like fashion design and gymnastics. I want to thank my mom for supporting me through all of this, and to apologize publically to my boyfriend, Eugene Skullovitch, who has known me since I was like, ten and who only recently found out I'm a Power Ranger. Oh, and Bulk? I want to apologize to you, too. We'll talk later." She waves to the cameras. "This really feels great, you guys. You have no idea how difficult it's been for us to maintain our identities and keep up our real lives." She grips the podium, smiles and then shakes her head. "And now the Red Ranger!"

There's even more applause and Rocky shuffles over. Instead of nudging the briefcase out of the way, he steps on it, looming considerably over the microphone. With far less finesse than the girls, he removes his helmet and sets it down on the podium. "Um, hi. I'm Rocky." He reaches out and adjusts the microphone up slightly. "I just want to say . . . 'cause I know you're all wondering, I'm not the original Red Ranger. He's . . . he's fine and all, just . . . stuff came up and he decided to do something else and I got the opportunity to take over. But, uh, Billy here had been around longer, so it made sense that he'd go on to be the leader. Um. Anyway, uh, I went to the same high school as everyone else and I help run the dojo with Adam now. I guess that's about it."

There's a delay after Rocky steps off stage before the crowd bursts into applause again. Rocky starts to leave, remembers his helmet and goes back for it, nearly running into the mayor as she goes to the podium and calls into the microphone, "Ladies and gentlemen, the Power Rangers!"

The roar and cheering is deafening, but Billy's eyes are on Rocky and not the crowd. It isn't the buoyant, cheerful Rocky he's always known at that podium and he's not sure what to make of it.

The mayor gently nudges the briefcase out of the way of the podium and looks at all of the Rangers. She shakes her head in disbelief. "You're telling me you were all in high school when you became Power Rangers?"

"Yes," Billy says, "that's—" He's cut off by someone shoving a microphone in his face. Startled at first, he shifts his helmet to his other hand and takes it. "Hello? Can you hear me?" The crowd roars in approval. "All right. Ah, yes. We were all approximately fifteen and sixteen when we were . . . ah, recruited to be Power Rangers."

"And . . . Rocky was it? He says that he's not the original Red Ranger? Can you shed any more light on that situation?"

Billy glances back at the others. "It can be a very stressful, time consuming job. No one is tied to the position and over the years we've had a few members leave."

"And just how does one . . . interview to be a new Power Ranger?"

Billy manages a little laugh. "That's . . . right now, that's something our boss decides."

"Your boss. Can you tell us a little about him or her?"

"Not very much, but I can say that he is not affiliated with any group or organization on Earth and is in fact alien in origin himself."

The mayor puts a hand to her ear for a moment, and Billy realizes she's being fed questions through an earpiece. It's like the perfect reporter. "And what can you tell us of the Gold Ranger? Why has he not appeared since the war? Rumors state he died."

"Uh, negative. That is not true. The Gold Ranger was a very special situation. He came to help us at a very dire point in time and we knew from the beginning that it would be a limited engagement. He has since . . . retired. Permanently."

"Can you tell us which of the Rangers have been here since the beginning and who are new?"

Billy glances at the others. "That's for them to decide. Really, I don't feel it's important. We've all been together for a very long time."

"And will you reveal the names of the former Power Rangers?"

"No. They're free to do so on their own if they wish, and I'll corroborate their stories if they so chose to reveal, but I suspect they're all quite content to stay out of the limelight right now."

From the front of the audience, one reporter shouts up at them.

"Ah, yes," Billy says.

"What was that?" The mayor glances from Billy to the reporter and back. "I didn't catch that."

"He asked about the Green Ranger."

"That's right. There used to be another Ranger. He was the evil one."

Speaking into a microphone now, the reporter says, "The Green Ranger was responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people! Are you hiding his identity still? If he was some angry teenager from Angel Grove, maybe he should be brought to justice!"

The hackles on Billy's neck rise. "The identity of the Green Ranger is _not_ going to be revealed. What I will say is that the actions he did were not his own. He was being controlled by the evil witch Rita Repulsa. He is no longer a threat and he has suffered plenty as a result of his actions."

"Can you tell us a little more about—"

Billy holds his hand up. "This isn't an interview. We're not answering anymore questions right now. I will be in contact with you and other government officials in the upcoming weeks. There is a lot to discuss, especially with the return of Master Vile." He gives his microphone away and pulls his helmet back on. "I want to thank you all for your time and support. Hopefully with these reveals, we can work together to make the Earth an even safer place."

Although taken aback, the mayor quickly recovers. "Well, thank you, Mr. Cranston!"

Stepping back, Billy glances to the others. With a nod of his head, they all grasp their belts and teleport out in a dazzling array of colors and thunderous applause.

It's been maybe half an hour, but Billy's house is already in chaos when they teleport back in. The blinds and curtains have been drawn and the armchair moved up against the front door. Alejandro and Skull are seated on the couch, intently watching the news.

"They've found my place already?"

Both Skull and Alejandro get to their feet. "It's not like it'd be hard to find," Skull says. "Not for anyone who knows you."

"They're already showing your pictures on the news." Alejandro nods towards the television where old, grainy black-and-white Angel Grove High yearbook pictures are being displayed. "It's on every station."

More banging resounds from the front door and Billy puts a hand on his brow. "We should have started this from the mountains. I had no idea they'd be so aggressive this early." He glances around as Rocky flops down on the recently vacated couch. "Where's Tommy?"

Alejandro shrugs and nods toward the hall. "He went to lie down after the reveal. Said he wasn't feeling too well."

Billy's first instinct is to run off to check on him, but he holds his ground a moment longer, addressing the other Rangers first. "We did good, guys. Things are going to be a little crazy for the next few days, but remember we're in this together. Stay safe and keep calm."

He wants to say more, but his concern over Tommy overrides everything else and he darts down the hall. His bedroom door is shut, so Billy knocks. There's no answer as he expected, so he calls, "It's Billy," and tries the handle.

It's unlocked. The room is dark, but enough light filters through the drawn blinds that Billy can see Tommy, curled up in bed on top of the covers. They were supposed to have a therapy session this afternoon, but Billy's just not sure how they'll manage to get there now. The last thing he needs is for overzealous news reporters filming him taking a former exotic dancer and crack whore into a therapist's office. "Are you all right?"

When Tommy realizes it's him, he starts to sit up. "You're back. I thought you'd be gone longer."

"I was only there to do the reveal. It wasn't meant to be an interview. Did you watch?"

"A little." Tommy swings his legs over the bed. "I left after the . . . the Green Ranger stuff." He takes a calming breath. "Why'd someone have to bring _that_ up?"

Not sure what to do, Billy goes and sits on the bed beside him. "I didn't tell them anything. You don't have to worry about that."

Tommy's hands ball into fists, clutching the sheets. He takes a deep breath. "They've been ringing the doorbell almost since you left."

"I know. I'll take care of it. The others are back. Do you want to see them before they go home?"

Tommy frowns. "No." He shrugs. "Well, maybe. It . . . it looked good. On TV, I mean." His gaze drifts to Billy. "Almost . . . wish I could've been there with you. You know, as a Ranger." His gaze drops back to his knees.

"That's pretty huge, Tommy." Especially considering his reaction that time to being back in the Command Center. He stares at Tommy's fist on the bed, but resists slipping his hand over it. Just thinking about it makes his breath catch in his throat. "You were supposed to see Brian today, but I'm not sure you're up for going?"

Tommy's eyes widen. "More than ever. I thought that was why you wanted to do the reveal on a therapy day."

"To be honest, I hadn't really considered it." In the distance, he hears the doorbell ring. "We're going to have to find a safe way of getting there. I know it's not your favorite mode of transportation, but are you okay with teleporting?"

Tommy nods before he speaks. "Is Brian?"

"I'll call him and let him know. I'm sure he's heard the news." He stands up. "I've got to see the others off. I just wanted to check on you."

"Thanks."

It's not easy, but Billy leaves him sitting there. The television is still reporting on the Power Ranger's reveal, only now they're interviewing people who know or have known them. Disgusted, Billy ignores it. "Who was at the door?"

"Just some more kids. " Skull's got his cell phone to his ear. "I'm on the phone with the station. I've got this situation handled. I'll have patrol cars cruising by your houses for the new few days, making sure that people don't loiter." He gives a bit of a laugh. "They're treating me like a god down at the station. Bulky's never gonna let me hear the end of this."

Billy's grateful and impressed. "Thank you very much."

"Hey, no problem. You give me a call if anyone bothers you." He steps aside for a moment to complete the conversation.

"He put in a call to the station in our district, too," Aisha says, holding hands with Alejandro. "And y'all're welcome up in my uncle's cabin until things settle down."

"Thank you."

"That was exciting," Kimberly says, hurrying to Billy. She gives him a big, unexpected hug. "How's Tommy taking it?"

"Pretty well. He's understandably upset about the Green Ranger stuff. I think he takes comments like that to heart."

"Poor guy. Maybe I should talk to him before we head out?"

"I think he'd like that."

Once Kimberly moves off, Billy looks to Rocky, who is still sitting forlornly on the couch. His eyes are on Adam, who is animatedly chatting to someone on the phone in the kitchen. Sitting down beside him, Billy pats Rocky's thigh. "Why the long face?"

Rocky shrugs. "It's nothing."

"I've never seen you like this before."

"Just . . . everything's gonna change now, huh?"

Billy notices Rocky never takes his eyes off Adam. "Hopefully in a good way."

"Yeah." He finally looks over. "Are we done here? I want to get home. Make sure no one's breaking into our house. Adam's house."

"Yes." Billy turns those words over in his head and wonders who Adam's on the phone with.

"Tell Adam I'll see him when he gets back, then."

Without waiting for a reply, Rocky teleports out, not even bothering to stand.

The charge of electricity causes Alejandro and Aisha to turn around, surprised.

Aisha's eyes widen. "Rocky left? Without Adam?"

"He's more upset about the reveal than I anticipated." Billy gets back to his feet. "Do you know who Adam's on the phone with?"

She shakes her head. "I figured it was his parents or something."

"I've got to get Tommy to his therapy appointment in a while. You're all welcome to stay as long as you'd like, of course."

Aisha shakes her head. "No, we'd better get on our way. It's a long drive back."

"You're sure you don't want to just teleport and pick up your car another time?"

Aisha glances up to Alejandro. "What do you say? Want to see what it's like?"

His eyebrows rise. "Can you do that?"

"You bet." She reaches out to hold his hand. To Billy, she says, "You don't mind holding the car? I'll probably come by again after dark to pick it up."

"It's no problem. Just teleport into the garage if it's really late."

She grins. "Will do. Thanks." Turning, she calls down the hall, "Bye Kim, Tommy!"

A moment later, Kimberly hurries down the hall. "Bye, Aisha." She gives Aisha another hug. "You were fabulous."

"So were you, girl. Keep in touch."

Stepping back, Kimberly watches them teleport out. She takes a deep breath and faces Billy. "Tommy's _definitely_ upset about all the Green Ranger stuff." She stares at the television and starts worrying her fingers. "Oh, no. Look."

Fearing a monster attack, Billy turns and is relieved to see that it's only old footage of the Rangers fighting. The relief freezes as he realizes it's old footage of the Rangers fighting _the Green Ranger_. The blurb beneath it reads, "Who is the Green Ranger?"

"You don't think they'll be able to guess, do you?" Kimberly turns to him. "They've got to be wondering about everyone we've ever talked to."

Suddenly uncertain, Billy finds himself sticking his hands in his pockets. "For now, we're lucky that Jason, Trini and Zack have decided to keep quiet about their involvement. It would be a lot more suspicious and obvious if all five of us were revealed, but not Tommy. As it is now, it's not nearly as straight-forward."

"Wait. You mean _Tommy_ was the evil Green Ranger?"

Billy and Kimberly turn as one to stare at Skull.

It's the worst moment possible for Tommy to walk in on. His face contorts instantly. "Just go on and tell _everyone_ why don't you!"

"Tommy, wait." Billy starts toward him, and then looks back at Skull. "You can't tell anyone."

"I can handle Gene," Kimberly says.

"I can't believe you told him!" Tommy shouts. "After what you just said!"

"I'm sorry, Tommy. It was bound to happen. He's Kim's boyfriend."

"That's how it starts! Soon everyone is going to know." He puts his fingers into his hair, tugging. "They're gonna find out and they're gonna want to persecute me, especially once they find out how I was living for all those years."

"Hey, can you guys _please_ keep it down in here?"

Stunned, all four of them turn to stare at Adam in the kitchen, still on the phone.

Their baffled reaction is so strong Adam mutters, "Hold on a second" and then, pressing the phone to his shoulder, says, "What?"

Cold fury boils in Billy's stomach. "Is this business you could be conducting at your own house?"

"Well, yeah, but I-" Adam looks around and his brow furrows. "Where'd Rocky and Aisha go?"

"Home. Perhaps you should too."

"Geez. What's with all the animosity?" He picks up the phone. "Let me call you back. No. I'll call you. Yeah, all right." He hangs up. "Rocky take the car?"

"No. He teleported out."

"Great. Well then, see ya." Adam gives a wave, but trots off to the front door.

Billy's reluctant to have it opened, but when Adam steps out, he is all smiles and waves. Before the door closes behind him, Billy sees him already signing autographs.

With him gone, the house is very quiet. Billy pushes his glasses up his nose. Adam's reaction wasn't at all ideal, but it did at lease defuse Tommy momentarily. "I'm going to call Brian real quick and get you in for an early session." He smiles sadly at Kimberly. "You two are welcome to stay, or leave your car here."

"Nah," Skull says. "I've got a patrol car on the way. We'll be outta your hair in no time." He looks to Tommy. "Seriously, man. Your secret is safe with me."

Tommy just crosses his arms and scowls.

Kimberly gives Billy's hand a squeeze, but then he pulls away to place a call to Brian.

Once the patrol car arrives to take Kimberly and Skull off and Brian is awaiting their arrival, Billy returns to Tommy. "I really am sorry," he says. "I will do my utmost best to protect your identity . . . but it's out of my hands if someone else figures it out."

Tommy doesn't look at him, but nods. "I know." His hands clench a few times. "I just wish I could erase all of that." He shakes his head. "Is Brian ready to see me?"

"Yes." Billy puts his arm out. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah." He takes a deep breath and grips Billy's arm.

They teleport directly into Brian's office. Even though Billy spoke him only a minute before, he still jumps in his seat when they appear.

He recovers quickly. "Tommy! Good to see you again." He quickly gets to his feet. "Billy. Uh, William? I guess you're not going to want to wait in the lobby this time."

" 'Billy''s fine. " He taps his communicator. "Tommy can contact me when he's finished and I'll come back in and pick him up."

"Oh. Well, that's okay, then."

Billy touches Tommy's hand. "You're all right with that?"

He shrugs and recrosses his arms. "Yeah." He sits down frowning.

Billy can already tell he's close to tears and it kills him to be unable to stay and help. To Brian, he says, "Thank you. Today's . . . been rough."

"I can imagine."

Unable to bear that little office any longer, Billy teleports back home. He's made up lists of very important things that need to be done after the reveal, but somehow all Billy can do is sit on the couch and worry about Tommy.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter fourteen:**

Two hours later and they're back in Billy's living room, Tommy clinging to Billy. Tommy's cheeks are wet, but he's not crying anymore. Billy's just grateful that the animosity of earlier has faded.

"That was a long session," Billy quietly says. His hand automatically rises to stroke Tommy's hair.

"We had a lot to talk about." Tommy presses his cheek to Billy's shoulder and leans more of his weigh into him.

Billy's acutely aware of where their body's touch; of Tommy's breath on his neck. The excitement from the reveal that morning is still in the air, even though the sun has set and the patrolling police cruisers Skull sent have chased the curious away. Billy forces himself to focus. "Do you want something to eat?"

"No." Tommy squeezes his eyes closed. "Just. Don't go anywhere." His shoulders shake a little, but Billy's confident tears aren't falling.

It feels dangerous, and maybe a little too comfortable. "All right." He rubs Tommy's back slightly and is very glad that the others all decided to go.

After nearly ten minutes, Tommy finally pulls back. "It was a really good session, actually." His eyes are dry, but he wipes at them anyway and takes a deep breath. "Brian really knows what he's doing."

"I'm glad." Billy rubs his own arm, trying to ignore how cold it feels now that Tommy's stepped away. He avoids making eye contact, thinking up something to do or say. "Go get comfortable. I'll heat up your dinner."

"All right."

They don't speak much while they eat. Billy wants to ask him about therapy, but he holds his tongue, knowing that's for Tommy to decide if or when to reveal. After the excitement of the day's events, his own energy is intense and he wishes he'd gone for a jog at some point. He also wants to keep the news on constantly, but he knows that wouldn't be good for Tommy.

Once Billy's showered and scrubbed up for bed, he finds himself padding into Tommy's room for one final check up. To his surprise, Tommy's curled on his side, glasses on, readying a book. His hair is down, curled around his shoulders, illuminated from behind by the lamp on his night stand. He looks up when he notices Billy standing in the doorway and smiles for a moment before letting it fade, as if remembering he's supposed to be sad. "Just a book Brian wanted me to read." He puts a bookmark in and sets it aside before Billy can catch the title. "You look very tired."

"I am." Billy knows going to sit on Tommy's bed isn't a great idea, as he's fallen asleep there every time he's done it recently, but he can't bear the thought of lying in bed alone. Not after everything that's happened today. It doesn't hurt that Tommy eagerly scoots aside to make room for him. "At least one of us doesn't look wrecked anymore tonight." He sighs as he slides onto the edge of the bed.

"Yeah. I really was a wreck in Brian's office, wasn't I? Guess I used up all the tears there."

"Is that a good thing?"

Tommy shrugs. "Means at least _you_ don't have to put up with it again."

"Have I ever complained?"

"No." Tommy looks him over. "You were . . . really amazing today, you know. I can't imagine how nervous you must have been."

It's rare flattery does anything to Billy, but he finds Tommy's words tickling him. "I'm just glad it's over." He closes his eyes and slumps against the headboard slightly. "At least the first part." He opens his eyes. "Do you know what's bothering Rocky?"

Tommy's frown is instant and Billy knows he's struck a chord. "He's worried about the reveal affecting his relationship with Adam." He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Oh?" Billy tries to keep his gaze on Tommy's eyes, but is sure he fails.

"Yeah." Tommy fiddles with his hands. "Can't say it hasn't made me wonder, too."

Billy knows he could reason this out, but he just tilts his head. "About what?"

Tommy lets out a quick breath. "Rocky's afraid now that Adam can choose to date anyone he wants to, he's going to leave Rocky."

Immediately, Billy wants to say that Adam would never do that to Rocky, but the words stick in his throat. He's closer to Adam than he is to Rocky; he knows how difficult being in a relationship with a man has been for Adam. He sticks to something he knows. "Adam loves Rocky."

"Yeah. But, does he love him _enough_?"

It's not a judgment call Billy can or wants to make. "What do you think?"

"I . . . I think Rocky probably has a valid reason to worry." He curls up closer to Billy. His eyes are quite bright this close, even despite the glasses. "Do I?"

The way the breath catches in Billy's throat surprises him. He's very conscious to keep his voice level. "I've said you're welcome to stay here as long as you like."

Tommy lowers his eyes and scoots a little closer. "What if they don't give you the government grants? You don't have a job and I'm not making very much at the dojo."

To make more room, Billy automatically puts an arm around Tommy and finds himself soon stroking his hair. "I suspect you'll find enrollment quadrupled by morning and unmanageable by Friday."

Tommy turns his face up to Billy. "You didn't answer my question."

He doesn't quite meet Tommy's gaze. "If they don't give us money, then the next time a monster attacks, we won't rush to destroy them. That will probably make them think twice about funding us and keeping us healthy and happy."

"You wouldn't."

"No. Probably not." Billy shifts on the bed slightly, sleepy and warm and comfortable. "You don't have to worry about anything, Tommy. I'm going to take care of everything."

"Billy."

It's not a question, but it draws Billy's attention to those bright eyes completely. For once in his life, he stops thinking and analyzing. He just leans the small distance remaining between them and gently, reassuringly kisses Tommy in the natural, comforting way he's wanted to for weeks.

Tommy responds instantly and positively. His return kiss is much more eager, one of his hands sliding up to cup the side of Billy's face. He even makes little noises of delight in the back of his throat.

It feels so _right_ and so good that Billy doesn't immediately pull away, though he knows he should. It's been so long since he's even _wanted_ to kiss someone that he can only relish the moment. The rest of his body very quickly starts to wake up, though, remembering how this game is supposed to play out, and before very long his eyes reopen.

Realizing what dangerous territory he's treading, Billy pulls back.

Tommy's eyes are still closed and his lips still parted. He's absolutely gorgeous and Billy is more than a little stunned at how much he wants to continue.

After a moment, Tommy opens his eyes. "You stopped," he whispers. "That was so nice. Why did you stop?"

Billy's heart pounds in his ears. "I . . . I didn't mean to."

Smiling slightly, Tommy starts to lean forward. "Easily fixed."

"I didn't meant to _kiss you_, that is." Billy pulls his arm out from behind Tommy. "Not that it wasn't nice. I just." Leaving the warm comfort of the bed, Billy staggers to his feet.

Tommy's serene face crumples. "I'm just a dirty whore."

"No. _No_. That's not it at all. Not even close." What it _is_ isn't something Billy really wants to puzzle out with Tommy right there. He's been an idiot letting this go so far. "You're in therapy for . . . for the horrible way people have treated you. You don't need something like this to complicate things." He puts a hand through his hair. "_I_ don't need to complicate things. You're not ready."

"Shouldn't I be the one to decide if I'm ready?"

"I don't know if _I'm_ ready." Billy pushes his glasses up. "I'm sorry, Tommy. I shouldn't . . . I shouldn't have done that. It's just been a long time and I've been . . ." He shakes his head. Listing excuses isn't going to change anything. "I'm just sorry. You're wonderful, Tommy, but this isn't right. I should go to bed."

It's hell leaving Tommy there, offended and hurt, but Billy does.

He crawls between his cold sheets into his big empty bed. Lying on his back, he stares up at the ceiling and wonders what the hell he was thinking. It takes so long for his heart to stop pounding.

Although he tries, sleep evades Billy and each time he rolls on his side to squint at the clock display, he finds another hour has ticked away. It's impossible to relax with the thoughts running through his head, and none of his usual math tricks work to distract and lull him to sleep. _He just kissed Tommy._ He wanted to _keep_ kissing Tommy. It's not a feeling that happened over night, either. He's felt the attraction for quite a while now.

And it's not hard to see Tommy's attracted back. It's just such a delicate situation. There's just no way Tommy's ready for a relationship, and one with Billy is especially problematic. Is Tommy really attracted to him, or does he just think he is because Billy's the one who rescued him? Is Billy taking advantage of Tommy? Even more—does he _really_ want _Tommy_, or is he getting confused by wanting to provide help and comfort?

There's suddenly no doubt in his mind that Rocky's fears about Adam leaving are valid. It's easy to _say_ Adam would never do something like that, but without Zordon's rules forcing them to keep secrets from loved ones, well . . . Adam's dating pool _has_ opened.

And, that means, so has Billy's.

Tommy's not just damaged, he's _broken_. Even assuming everything else checked out all right with Brian, there's no guarantee Tommy would ever be comfortable doing anything more than kissing.

Tommy's not an intellectual of the caliber that Billy is generally attracted to. He doesn't fit any of Billy's usual shallow turn ons either, by virtue of not being female. Billy's open minded and pansexual, so being in a relationship with a man doesn't bother him on the surface, not even given Tommy's history, but it's not a situation he's ever had to seriously contemplate before.

On paper, the answer is clear and obvious: Tommy is healing and shouldn't be in a relationship with _anyone_. Additionally, Billy has much more important things to worry about than potentially triggering Tommy's sexual neuroses. He also, quite literally now, has the whole world to choose a partner from. He shouldn't even be attracted to Tommy, let alone entertaining the idea of potentially entering into any sort of intimate relationship with him.

And yet, Billy kissed him.

Lying there, he can analyze it in ways he couldn't at the time and he knows the desire to kiss him more hasn't faded. Billy's not impulsive. That it's already gotten to kissing means it's too late.

It's past three in the morning before Billy pushes the covers aside and quietly opens the door to Tommy's bedroom. He's not exactly sure what he's doing, but standing there, staring through the darkness at Tommy's sleeping form somehow helps sort his emotions much more than lying alone in bed did.

"Billy?"

It's so dark Tommy's voice makes him jump. "Did I wake you?"

"Not really."

Silence stretches between them and it takes considerable will power to keep Billy from crawling into bed with him. "I'm sorry about earlier." It's hard to talk into the darkness. "I think we should talk to Brian, together, before we . . . "

"Kiss again?"

"Yeah." It makes Billy's insides tingle just to think about. He gives himself a few moments to parse his next words, but his nerves do him no favors. "But, I cannot deny the evidence that we both . . . obtain optimal nocturnal rejuvenation best when concurrently partaken in close proximity."

In the darkness, he sees the shadow of Tommy sit up. "You mean, sleep together?"

"Yes." Billy presses his palms to his thighs and releases some of his tension. "I really don't want to hurt you." He doesn't step into the room further. "And whether you realize it or not, this has considerable potential to do just that." He shakes his head.

Softly, from across the room, Tommy says, "I trust you."

It takes a moment, but after a calming breath, peace floods Billy and he nods. Tommy _trusts_ him. He has to live up to that trust. "Come on, then." He reaches his hand out. "We'll sleep better in my bed. It's much bigger."

In the morning, Tommy arrives at Adam and Rocky's dojo with a spring in his step and a smile on his face. There's no one in the world he wants to tell about kissing and sleeping beside Billy more than Rocky—not even Brian. To avoid the line of people lining up for the dojo out front, he lets himself in the back way and finds Rocky in the office, morosely staring at the computer.

Tommy cheerfully leans against the desk. "Hey, you're not dressed! Shouldn't you be out there, signing up new students?"

"Hi, Tommy." Rocky doesn't look up from the computer, just listlessly clicks another link. "Adam told me not to."

Although it means dampening his own excitement, Tommy says, "What? Not sign up new students? Why not? What's wrong?"

Rocky shrugs. "Adam wants to restructure things. I think that means charge more money. He quit his job and was supposed to be here to help me so we could be ready for the people this morning, but then this guy in Hollywood called and Adam decided that was more important." Rocky scrolls through another webpage. "I don't know what he wants me to do, so I'm just waiting for him to get back." He clicks a link. "And looking at jobs."

"Geez." Tommy blinks a few times, at a loss for what to do or say. "Adam's really getting into this celebrity thing, isn't he?"

"I'll say." Rocky finally takes his eyes off the computer, glancing to Tommy. "It's not bothering you or Billy?"

Tommy can't hold it in anymore. "He kissed me last night!"

Rocky blinks, his somber expression change to surprise. "What?"

"Billy did! I was feeling really rotten after the whole reveal and he just calmed me down and made me feel better. He was sitting in my bed talking and it just sort of happened. It was _amazing_, unlike anything I've ever experienced. He . . . he ended it too fast and wants us to talk to Brian about it, but." He grinned. "He asked me to sleep in his bed with him. It was so big!"

"Wow." Rocky blinks a few times. "I'm really surprised. I mean . . . congratulations, I just thought." He shrugs and looks back at the computer. "I guess Adam's the only one eager to get as far away from all this as possible."

Tommy's seen Rocky more excited about _cupcakes_ than he is at that news, making the sheer weight of his own depression suddenly extremely obvious. "Hey, man. I'm sure it's not like that. Adam's just overwhelmed with all the popularity and stuff. H e'll be back to his old self in no time. Better even, if he's quit his job."

"I hope you're right, but I doubt it." Rocky sighs. "I know him too well. He's _always_ wanted this and he's _never_ wanted me. Not _really_. Not like I've wanted _him_. I was just easy and convenient. And lucky. I've always known that."

Tommy's dumbfounded. "But you guy's been together for years."

"Yeah. He gave it a good shot." Rocky frowns and closes the window browser on the computer. "I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he'll come home and everything will go back to normal. I just don't think so. He's finally got the chance for fame and fortune and the perfect little wife he's always wanted. I'm not going to stop him from getting the happiness he's dreamed of."

"If that's true, then he doesn't deserve you in the first place."

With warning, Rocky gets to his feet. "I shouldn't mope. We had a good run—I mean, several years, right?—and I've only ever wanted him to be happy. If he'll be happier with someone other than me, so be it." He takes a deep, calming breath. "You ready to face the crowd? Even if Adam's not here, we ought to at least let in our current students, I guess."

"Yeah. It'll all work out, you'll see." Tommy forces a smile, gives Rocky's shoulder a squeeze and grabs a pen off the desk. "Here, you might want this."

"Huh?" Rocky takes the pen. "What for?"

Tommy leads the way out of the office. "Adam's not the only famous person here. I've got a feeling you're about to start signing a _lot_ of autographs."

Billy's not home when Tommy gets back, which unsettles him more than he cares to admit. The crowd at the dojo was utterly unmanageable and he and Rocky got absolutely nothing done other than signing autographs and taking pictures—and apologetically telling people that Adam wasn't there. He wanted to come home to dinner and cuddles.

Instead, he finds a note saying Billy's gone to Los Angeles for the day and dinner is in the fridge. Visions of Billy meeting and wooing some beautiful astrophysicist flit through his mind. It's all made worse because Billy's car is in the garage, meaning wherever he is, he teleported there. Or, maybe he went with Adam.

It's almost ten by the time he teleports home and Tommy's been alone in his house with his thoughts and the occasional obnoxious doorbell ringer for nearly five hours.

Billy smiles upon seeing him. "Oh, good, you're home."

Tommy doesn't realize he's been upset and brooding until Billy flops down on the couch beside him, clearly exhausted. The animosity fades completely. "What's up? Where've you been?"

"Kissing the ass of every politician in Los Angeles." He lolls his head to the side, smiling tiredly up at Tommy. "I'm going to have to get the rest of the Rangers in on this, but it's starting to look like our government grant is very likely. Even the people who don't like the idea are afraid of the consequences if they don't support the measure."

"That's great!" Tommy's doubts evaporate completely. It's so different when Billy's _here_. "Especially since we're almost out of toilet paper. When do you think they'll get money to us?"

To Tommy's delight, Billy slides a little, until his head is resting on Tommy's shoulder. "Officially, it's going to come out of the tax payer's dollars, so we'll have to wait until it gets on the ballot."

Very, very hesitantly, Tommy raises his hand and strokes the short hair at the base of Billy's skull. "Couldn't that take _years_?"

"Mm." Billy closes his eyes. "Fortunately, I was able to explain our situation and get something of a cash advance. The alternate was sponsorship and I'm just not a proponent of the Power Rangers promoting soft drinks and sports shoes for money."

Tommy lets his breath out slowly and strokes Billy's hair more intently. "You might want to mention that to Adam, then."

"Oh?" He cranes his neck to look up at Tommy.

It's hard not to kiss him. "Rocky says he's been in Hollywood talking to . . . you know, Hollywood types all day. The dojo was a madhouse and he never even showed up to help teach or deal with any of it. He never even called. The fame might be going to his head."

Billy takes a deep breath. "Sometimes I feel the rest of them are still teenagers. I'll add it to my list of things to take care of. Is Rocky still convinced Adam's going to leave him?"

"Yes. More so than ever."

Groaning, Billy sits up. "I'll talk to him about that too, then. They were right when they said there's no rest for the weary."

Thursday rolls around quickly and with it Tommy's second session with Brian since the identity reveal. This time Billy doesn't teleport back out. Brian smiles at him, surprised but expectant.

"I haven't adequate determined how to preface this," Billy begins.

Tommy cuts him off. "He kissed me on Monday."

The way Brian looks at them implies he expects there to be more forthcoming. After a period of silence, comprehension dawns on him. " Oh. _Oh_. So, you mean you two weren't—" He waves his finger slightly. "I'm sorry. Tommy had mentioned you two were sleeping together, so I had just assumed . . ."

Billy's eyes widen. "No." His brows furrow. "_No_. Not like _that_. It was just sleeping. He's not well. I couldn't do that to him."

"He did seem to be handling it remarkably well and avoiding my cues to elaborate on it." Brian gestures to the chairs in the office and takes a seat in one of his own. "Then I assume you want to stay for a while. Please, take a seat."

Billy does, feeling far more nervous that he expected. Tommy, on the other hand, is alert and full of smiles.

Brian glances between them. "So, your relationship has become intimate, now?"

"He said we couldn't kiss anymore until we talked to you. Can you please tell him that more kissing is all right?" Tommy glances at Billy.

Brian crosses his legs and sets his laced fingers on his knee. "To be perfectly honest, I had somewhat assumed all this time that your relationship already _was_ of this nature. I doubted it a few times based on some of what Tommy told me, and certainly after I discovered you were, uh," he clears his throat, "such a celebrity. But you certainly know Tommy's history and are quite an educated man yourself. Surely you've wrestled with the consequences of your actions yourself. So long as you are aware of and accept the limitations involved, discuss boundaries and don't do anything Tommy's uncomfortable with, I don't see any reason why you shouldn't, at the very least, kiss. In fact, I quite encourage it. Tommy has surprisingly little negative associations with it."

It's all Tommy can do not to break into huge grin then and there.

Tommy wastes no time once they're back in Billy's living room. He turns and kisses Billy right there and in doing so notices for the first time how short Billy is and how wonderfuly strange that makes Tommy feel.

Although he was clearly taken off guard, Billy doesn't break the kiss. In fact, he's a little more insistence than Tommy expected, but it's nice; he feels _wanted_. The fears Tommy's harbored over Billy losing interest after the first kiss flutter away as Billy drapes his arms around Tommy's shoulders and tilts his head to enhance the kiss.

Before long, they stumble backward and collapse onto the couch together. From that position, Billy obtains height by getting on his knees to more easily kiss him. Tommy puts his hands on Billy's hips, which elicits a noise of delight from Billy that sends shivers coursing down Tommy's spine.

Tommy drinks in the sensation of Billy _wanting him_ and _kissing him_ and every time he does, a wave of disbelief washes over him. The depths in which he could fall for Billy almost terrify him.

Long before Tommy's ready, Billy breaks the kiss, pulling away just enough to pant heavily in Tommy's ear. "Sorry," he gasps. "I'm . . . really not used to this." Still on his knees, he hunches slightly.

"What? No, it's great. You're really, really good." Tommy reaches up to stroke Billy's cheek and kisses him again, softly. His brow furrows at Billy's expression. "What's wrong?"

"It's not you. Unfortunately, I didn't anticipate exactly how I'd react to so much kissing after having gone for so long without human intimacy." Billy draws a long breath in through his nose. "I'll be all right. I just need a moment."

Tommy doesn't get it. "Are you out of breath?"

Billy stares at him and then laughs. "No. I, uh." He pauses to mull over his words in that way of his. "I was aroused, Tommy, that's all. My body expects this to lead to sex."

The thought horrifies him. "Why would you think _that_?"

Billy blinks a few times and Tommy can almost see him processing. "Because kissing often does."

Thinking of _sex_ at a time like this makes Tommy's stomach turn. "Why would you want to kiss someone you had to have sex with?"

"Uh, Tommy?" Getting off his knees, Billy sits back down on the couch. Whatever was giving him trouble seems to have abated. "Maybe it _is_ too soon for us to be kissing like this."

"Why? It's so nice."

Billy makes a strange little sigh. "I'm really not sure you're ready."

Tommy laughs, stares at him and then laughs some more. "I've been wanting to kiss you like that for _weeks_."

Billy smiles. "All right. Perhaps _I'm_ not ready. But, I can be." He gets to his feet, strangely shaking his leg as he does. "I'm just going to pop into the shower really quick, all right? Then we can continue."

Tommy's brow furrows, but he's willing to do almost anything for the chance to continue. "All right."

It isn't until he sees Billy's awkward walk as he disappears into the master bedroom that Tommy _gets it_ and the thought of Billy and cocks and erections leaves him unsettled.

When Billy returns, Tommy's not sure how to proceed. Although he wants to kiss him, the way Billy's linked the action to something sexual bothers him and brings up far too many memories associated with the club. He's not so naïve to think that Billy didn't take care of the problem in the shower, and that idea unsettles him too.

"Are you all right?" Billy sits back down on the couch beside him.

"Yeah. I just . . . I didn't expect that to happen. Or to bother me the way it did."

Billy's patient with him. "Because I had to leave in the middle of the session?"

"No. Well, yeah. I don't know."

"You didn't seem bothered before. What changed?"

Even though it's not on, Tommy stares at the television. "You just went and . . . and . . . in the shower . . ."

Beside him, Billy shifts uncomfortably. "I was more aroused by the kissing than I had anticipated, yes. In order to continue comfortably, and safely, I had to take care of some things. I'm sorry if that upset you." When Tommy doesn't speak, Billy says, "You never kissed anyone before?"

Tommy looks down at his hands. "I did with Kim a few times, but . . . not like that."

Billy's jaw clenches a few times and he calmly nods. "You have to realize that for most people, kissing is a huge part of sexual intimacy. They tend to go hand-in-hand."

Tommy scowls. "They're totally different things, though."

"I know. And we can kiss as much as you like without worrying about sex. I just . . . wasn't prepared. I will be next time." He smiles. "It's not a bad thing, Tommy. It just means I find you . . . attractive."

Tommy's used to men finding him attractive and telling him just how much and what they'd like to do to him because of how attractive he is. He's had to endure men like that actually doing those things to him. It's definitely not something he wants to associate with the warm, comfortable sensation of kissing Billy. They're worlds apart. "But there's not going to be any sex, right?"

Billy's wearing one of his pained expressions, but he nods. "No sex."

Despite his discomfort, Tommy really wants to feel Billy's arms and mouth again and curls up next to him. "Promise?"

"I promise."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter fifteen:**

"Do you and Adam kiss when you have sex?"

"What?" Rocky hits his head on the top of the pillowfort when he sits up, nearly knocking the whole thing over. "What kind of question is that?"

Relieved, Tommy lets out his breath. "Man. Billy and I were kissing last night and it was really great until he started talking about sex. Talk about a total mood killer, right?"

Although he lies back down, Rocky stares at him. "I was just surprised by the question is all." His eyes narrow slightly. "You mean you're used to having sex _without_ kissing?" He frowns. "No offense, Tommy, but that's _weird_." He folds his arms in front of him, turning his attention back to the television. "Adam and I don't usually kiss as much as I'd like during sex, but he's always so tired these days he just wants to get it over with and go to bed." He glances at Tommy. "It helps him get to sleep, you know."

For all the things he and Rocky have discussed, this is the closest they've gotten to really tackling the subject of sex. Although it makes Tommy's skin crawl, he wants—needs—to know more. "So you _want_ to kiss Adam when you have sex?"

"Well, of course. What kind of weird sex were you having?"

Tommy rubs the back of his neck, feeling cold despite his sweater. "Usually guys would grab my hair and fu—do me from behind." His eyes unfocus, trying to remember and when he does he shakes his head to clear the unpleasant memories away. "I don't really remember. I used a lot of coke when I had to have sex and was usually pretty out of it."

Rocky's staring at him again. "Coke?"

"Cocaine, Rocky."

It's obvious the moment Rocky gets it. His face lights up and pushes back into a sitting position again. "_Oh_."

"What do you use?"

He blinks a few times. "Huh?"

"When you have to have sex with Adam."

Rocky blinks a few more times. "Oh, uh. Astroglide?"

Tommy can't help but chuckle. "No, I mean, for your head; so it doesn't bother you so much. A mixture of coke and alcohol usually put me under long enough."

Rocky just stares at him again. Slowly, he shakes his head. "We don't use any drugs. I'm not really sure you should. That doesn't sound safe."

It's Tommy turn to stare, and he does for quite a while. The thought of Rocky submitting to Adam's seemingly voracious sexual appetite every night without something to dull it at all astounds him. The thought that Rocky can kiss him during such trauma upsets him even more so. "How do you stand it?"

"Stand what? I love having sex with Adam. Why would I want to block that out?"

Frowning, Tommy draws his knees to his chest and hugs them. He doesn't look at Rocky anymore, staring instead at the cartoons on the television. For once, it feels like their pillowfort has been infiltrated.

"Anyway, sex might not be an issue for me pretty soon." Rocky flops back down. He glances over, and even though Tommy does nothing to encourage him, continues. "I was right: Adam thinks we should be allowed to see other people. What he really means is _he_ should be allowed to see other people. He knows I'm not interested in anyone else."

The news astonishes Tommy enough to snap out of his funk. "What? Are you serious?"

"Yeah. It's not _so_ bad. I mean, I was getting all these crazy thoughts in my head, like Adam freaking out over the press seeing we live together and kicking me out and stuff. Turns out he just wants to be allowed to occasionally bring a girl home." He keeps his tone upbeat. "We've already set up an extra bed in the office, so I'll still have a place to sleep when he does."

Tommy can hardly speak. "I can't believe you'd agree to that."

Rocky shrugs. "What choice do I have?"

"You could say _no_?"

"What, and lose Adam for good? No, thank you."

"Even if he's sleeping with other people?"

"It's better than him dumping me, isn't it? It makes him happy and I get to keep him. How can I complain? He's never liked being with a guy before. He considers himself straight, you know, not even bi. That's always been there between us. Even when it's really great, he's got this animosity about the fact I'm not a girl. It's why we don't usually go out to places together. People wouldn't understand that he's in a relationship with a guy but isn't attracted to men."

"I certainly don't understand! He's into _you_, isn't he?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, I think so? It's like, I'm the one guy and we've known each other so long it's like . . . I'm almost not even a guy to him. That what he says, sometimes. 'You're not a guy to me, you're Rocky.' I sort of get it."

"I don't."

"I'm the same way, really. Like, okay, I do find some guys attractive, and I like girls too, you know? But Adam's the only one for me and it wouldn't matter to me if he had girl parts or boy parts or whatever. That's not what I'm into. It's _Adam_. I could make us work no matter what."

Tommy hugs his knees a bit harder. "Man." He shivers. "I know you love him, but it sounds to me like Adam treats you like crap."

To his surprise, Rocky doesn't jump to defend Adam. "It used to be better. The war took a lot out of him, and then his job and all his night classes took the rest." He plays with the tassel on one of the throw pillows. "I've only ever wanted him to be happy."

"Even if that means leaving you for some girl he just met?"

"Yes." Rocky sighs. "It's not like I didn't know; it's what he's always said he wanted."

"Man, and here I am complaining about sex and stuff. You've got it way worse."

"That's not true. We're both going through stuff." He shrugs. "The hardest part for me will be staying there and seeing this girl give him all the things I never could. I've done_ so much_ for Adam, but just because the way he's wired, it's never, ever going to be enough. I think that's part of why we don't kiss as much anymore. The novelty has worn off."

"What novelty?"

Rocky shrugs. "I don't know. He's got all these masculinity issues. He used to get picked on a lot when he was a kid, you know? So I think he enjoyed having a jock be all submissive to him."

"Who, you? You're not a jock!"

"Well, close enough. I looked enough like one of the guys who'd beat him up back in junior high, but I wasn't. He knew I _could_ hurt him, but didn't. I think he liked that I was strong, but he could trust me. It made him feel superior, and I've always been fine with that."

"And now you think that novelty has worn off."

"Yeah. Maybe it wouldn't have if we had to keep our identities."

Tommy squeezes his knees again. "You must be mad at Billy."

"No. Not really. Sometimes I think I am, but I understand why he did it. Adam's already a lot happier. If I'm mad at anyone, it's at Zordon for making us keep it a secret for so long in the first place." He shrugs. "But then, I might never have been with Adam in the first place if we hadn't."

"We're just a pair of messes, aren't we?"

"No way. Billy really likes you." Rocky rolls onto his side to face Tommy, propping his head up on his hand. "You'll figure out sex and kissing eventually. Believe me, it'll be worth the wait."

"You really don't use anything when you have sex?"

"Not drugs, no."

"But . . . doesn't it hurt?"

"No. Not if he's doing it right. It feels amazing."

Tommy wants to flop back down on the pillows and watch more cartoons with Rocky, but he can't seem to let go of his knees. Maybe it's different with Rocky and Adam. Maybe there's something _wrong_ with Tommy that makes it hurt. He can't imagine having sex with Billy, and he can't imagine sex not being completely horrid.

In the back of his mind, he remembers Billy talking about sex the second time they kissed. Eventually Billy will want it.

Tommy's not sure what he'll do when Billy's patience runs out.

In the morning, Tommy wakes to strange voices in the living room. He dresses quickly and brushes his hair before sneaking down the hallway to peek into the room. Billy's talking to two men in the living room, staring down at a large unfolded piece of paper on the dining room table. Both of the men are tall and broad, but dressed in the clothes of laymen.

Itching under the turtleneck he's just pulled on, Tommy pushes his sleeves up to his forearms and says, "Hey. What's going on here?"

Both men spin around, surprised.

Billy straightens out. If he's mad at Tommy for intruding, it doesn't show. "Good morning. Did we wake you?"

"Not really." Tommy takes a few steps closer, looking the men over. "Who are these guys?"

"This is Phil and Ramone. I've contracted them to install a gate in the front yard. Hopefully that will keep at least some of the fans at bay."

"Oh." Uncertainty that Tommy hadn't even realized he was harboring fades. "Nice to meet you both. I'm Tommy." Although they remain dumbfounded, Tommy shakes both of their hands.

"I don't have time to make breakfast, so you're on your own this morning," Billy says, returning his attention to the blueprints. "When you finish, I need you to start packing."

A jolt of shock courses through Tommy. "Wait, what?"

"I got a suitcase down from the attic earlier and put it by your door. I think all of your clothes should fit into it. Make sure you take all your sweaters."

The blood in Tommy's ears is suddenly so loud he can hardly hear anything else. Where will he go? What will he do? Adam'll never let him stay with Rocky; not now. "Did I do something wrong?"

Billy stares at him funny. "Not that I'm aware of."

"Then why're you kicking me out?"

Billy's face changes dramatically. He leaves the blueprints on the table, going to him. "No. I'm not kicking you out. I'm sorry, you misunderstood me." He glances briefly at Phil and Ramone. "We're going on a trip. It's going to take a few days to install the fence. I thought it'd be better if we weren't home until it's done." He grips Tommy's arms and gives them a squeeze. "I'm not kicking you out. I would never do that."

Tommy can see Phil and Ramone giving each other glances, but he doesn't care. It's like the world has suddenly stopped spinning. "Jesus, Billy." He gasps a little. "Don't scare me like that."

"I'm sorry. I really am. I phrased that badly." He manages a smile. "We'll only be gone a few days. You don't have to pack everything. It's going to be cold though, so you'll want your sweaters."

'Some place cold' turns out to be Aisha's uncle's cabin in the mountains, which suits Tommy just fine. The thought of waking up and not hearing fans and autograph seekers outside the front door is welcome news. The temperature in the mountains is perfect too, and the leaves have begun changing with the onset of autumn, which they never quite manage to do in Angel Grove.

"And, this should be it." Billy slows the car in front of a modest little cabin and double checks the address. "Sure looks cozy."

"And empty. Look, our nearest neighbor's way down that driveway."

Billy grins. "Yes, I thought you'd like that." He pulls the car into the driveway and parks. Getting out, Billy starts unloading their bags. "It will be impossible to go completely unnoticed up here, but Aisha tells me her reception from the locals has been completely different than what she gets when she's down in the valley. I don't mind a bit of fame, but it'd be nice if they kept it to a respectable distance."

"No kidding." Tommy hefts the heavier of the suitcases. "Man, I thought those two fencing guys were about to jump out of their skin when I showed up this morning."

Billy locks the car and starts toward the front door. "Well, I failed to mention I had someone living with me. They might have thought you were a crazy fan who followed them in."

Tommy frowns as Billy fishes the cabin key out of his pocket. "I'm sorry, man. You probably didn't want anyone to know I'm living with you, and now those two guys are gonna go blab it all over town." He shakes his head. "I can't do anything right."

"That's not true at all." The door opens and Billy is distracted for a moment, looking for the light switch. "I don't care who knows. Really, I don't. They've seen you with Adam and Rocky already. They'll figure it out eventually." He glances around the inside of the cabin. "This is really nice."

Tommy pulls the door closed behind him before taking in the main room. "Whoa." It's quite big, with several plush couches facing a panoramic window, overlooking the mountain view. Pine trees slope away as far as he can see, and although there's no snow yet, he can feel the chill in the air. "That's beautiful."

"Looks like the kitchen is that way, so the bedroom should be over here." Billy traverses a small hall and opens another door. "Very nice. Come see."

Tommy leaves the suitcase in the foyer and follows Billy. There's just one bedroom, but it's almost twice as big as Billy's back home. The area with the bed is raised and there's a sunken living room with a fireplace on one side and more windows facing the mountains on the other. Tommy blinks several times. "Wow. Aisha's uncle sure is nice letting us use this place." He takes a few tentative steps and then flops out on the big bed.

"I'll be sure to send him a thank you card." After hesitating a few moments, Billy slips off his shoes and joins Tommy on the bed. He rolls on his side, looking Tommy over. "Did you really think I was kicking you out earlier?"

It feels absolutely silly to think of now. "I'd just woken up. Everything's confusing then."

Reaching out, Billy puts his hand on Tommy's chest. "I keep my promises, and that's one I really promise. I'll never kick you out."

It sounds so true when Billy says it that Tommy almost believes him. He doesn't want to ruin this vacation, but he wants to kiss Billy and is afraid to. He mulls over his words a few seconds before gathering his strength. "You'll want sex someday and . . . and I don't know if I can do it. Not without drugs or something."

Billy blinks at him a few times. "I don't expect sex to come from this."

"That doesn't mean you don't _want_ it. You did last time we . . ."

"It's an involuntary reaction. I apologize if it upset you." He gently removes his hand. "But I mean it when I say I don't expect sex. Not now and not ever. I'd love for you to be healthy and not fear sex, but I'll never, ever _expect_ it of you. I knew that going in." He gives Tommy a brief kiss and curls up next to him. "This is more than enough."

Instinctively, Tommy puts an arm around Billy. "I don't understand why. You're the leader of the Power Rangers. You could have _any_body. Why pick someone you can never really be with?"

Without moving Tommy's arm, Billy rolls over to face him. "First of all, 'never' is a very long time. Second, you're rating sex much too high. Sex does not make a relationship more, or less, legitimate. While our society may be obsessed with copulation, I find it to be a relatively trivial part of what makes a relationship. It's like a cat lover falling for someone who has allergies. One flaw doesn't negate the rest of you."

The words catch Tommy's breath in his throat. Billy sounds _so_ sincere. How easy it would be to believe him, and how devastating to later discover he didn't mean it. He has to swallow before he can speak again. "The rest of me is also pretty flawed."

Grinning, Billy sits up enough to kiss him again. "Well, no body's perfect."

Tommy wants to protest, but with Billy's mouth on his, his brain absolutely refuses to engage, so for now he closes his eyes and lets his hands and mouth do the thinking.

About the only thing not amazing in the cabin is the pantry, which has obviously stood empty since summer. Knowing this, Billy doesn't let the pleasant make out session on the bed last until evening, as nice as that could be. Instead, he wraps it up in time for lunch, which they have at an amazing mom and pop café. Tommy marvels at his soda, which is made with cane sugar and comes in a glass bottle, and Billy tells him he's certain hot chocolate this delicious means it was made with milk and real chocolate in a sauce pan.

Billy isn't recognized until they make it to the local grocery store, or if he was, no one made a fuss. It's not the locals who stop in their tracks to stare, but other tourists. If Tommy notices, he doesn't say anything. He just pulls two bags of pasta noodles off the shelf and compares them. "What's . . . ore-gan-o?"

The simple question puts Billy at ease, allowing him to focus on Tommy instead of the tourists. "It's a type of spice." Leaving their mostly empty cart, he goes to stand close to Tommy, reading around his shoulder. He points. "Get that one."

"How did you decide which?"

Billy shrugs. "I liked the way you said oregano."

Blushing slightly, Tommy glances over at him. Noticing someone approaching, he says, "Hey."

Turning, Billy sees a kid, probably about seven, hesitantly inching his way closer. His eyes widen when he realizes he's been spotted. Then, taking his time to draw up all of his courage, he says, "Are you a _Power Ranger_?"

Billy has to laugh. He can see some of the adults lingering now, surreptitiously watching him, waiting for his reply. "Yes. My name is Billy."

"I'm Robbie."

"It's nice to meet you, Robbie." Billy bends down to shake the bewildered child's hand. "Are you here on vacation with your parents?"

"Uh-huh."

"I'm here on vacation, too. It's a beautiful place, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Does this mean if there's a monster attack, you won't go stop it?"

"No." Billy straightens up. "My friends and I will stop the monster. We can travel really fast."

One of the adults breaks away from the rest. "Robbie, come along. We don't want to keep him from his shopping." Catching Billy's eyes, she gives a flustered smile. "We're all very big fans. Thank you."

As she leads her son away, Billy notices several of the others nodding their heads in agreement. He keeps smiling. While he appreciates this more than the autograph-seeking mob in Angel Grove, it nevertheless makes him want to go and hide.

Returning to Tommy, he murmurs, "I'm not cut out for this celebrity stuff."

"I thought you handled it really well."

Billy quickly adds a vinegar based pesto to their cart. "Do you want some more bottled sodas? I saw they had some when we came in."

Tommy follows him down the aisle, wisely changing topics with him. "I thought you didn't want me drinking soda."

"All rules can be a little bent when you're on vacation."

They're stared at as they continue shopping, but Billy keeps the pace up enough that no one bothers them again until they're standing in line to check out. There, he's coerced into signing a few autographs before politely hurrying out.

There are people in the parking lot with cameras, but Billy ignores them as he heads for their car. They're not paparazzi and he's not in the mood to cause a fuss. Tommy, on the other hand, can't help but smile when people wave to them.

When they're back in the car, Billy says, "You'd be so much better at this than I am."

"What? No way. You were polite and tactful to everyone."

"And you're naturally _charismatic_."

"What? I haven't even done anything."

Billy laughs. "Just the way you _smile_ at everyone." He glances over. In his white turtleneck sweater and his face framed in shiny curls, Tommy's downright gorgeous. There's no doubt in Billy's mind that by the time they make it back to Angel Grove, the news stations will have picked up on Tommy and begun their speculation in earnest.

The pasta takes much longer to cook than anticipated due to the altitude and the sun sets while Billy's trying to figure everything out. Tommy gets the fireplace going in the bedroom, and they eventually bring all the food there, eating on the large fur rug.

When they're finished, Tommy lounges back, satiated. "It came out quite good, considering."

Billy arches an eyebrow. " 'Considering' what?"

"Uh." Tommy sits back up. "Nothing. I didn't mean anything by it."

"Of course not." He chuckles. "I know I'm not the most exceptional chef in the world, or even on the Ranger team. I'm just glad you liked it. Or at least pretended you did."

"It really was great. The company was even better."

In the firelight, Tommy's really beautiful and Billy finds it hard to stop smiling. "Come on, I want to show you something."

He grabs his coat and the big quilt off the foot of the bed. After making sure Tommy's pulled on his coat as well, he slides one of the doors open, stepping out onto a patio.

"Wait up, Billy. I can hardly see anything. Maybe we should get a flashlight."

"Your eyes will adjust. Just follow the sound of my voice, but be careful. There are a few steps here." He takes them easily and finds himself on gently sloping ground. "Here, give me your hand."

Once Tommy does, Billy helps him down the steps, but doesn't let go. They pick their way through the undergrowth and trees for several minutes.

By the time they reach the clearing, Billy's eyes have adjusted to the darkness so much that he can pick out all of the individual trees surrounding the clearing. When he turns back to look at Tommy, he can see the wonder and confusion on his face. "Just a few more seconds."

Releasing Tommy's hand, he spreads the blanket out on the grass and nettles and then stretches out on it. Without needed to be prompted, Tommy soon follows suit.

Despite the coats, it's cold and Billy takes great pleasure in being able to curl up next to Tommy. The way Tommy's arm so easily fits around him just feels right. "Well?" Billy says, pressing his ear to Tommy's chest. "What do you think?" He gestures at the sky.

Overheard, a massive ribbon of stars stretches across the sky—the spectacular view of the Milky Way visible only from places as unpolluted by light as the mountains.

"Oh wow," Tommy breathes. He draws a deep breath, drinking the view in. "It's so beautiful." When he lets his breath out, it steams in the cold air. "I've never seen so many stars."

"It's hard to believe all of this is up there every night, but we've filled our cities with so much light pollution we can't even begin to glimpse it. Sad, isn't it?"

Tommy shrugs slightly. "We wouldn't appreciate it so much if we saw it all the time." He gives Billy a little squeeze. "It wouldn't be worth the trek out to the middle of the forest in the cold."

Such a simple statement gives Billy a pause. "You're right." He laughs at how simply Tommy just turned his whole thought of the situation on its head. He takes a deep breath of his own, as if breathing in the starlight. "I used to want to travel through the stars."

"Sounds awfully lonely."

"We know we're not alone. Statistically speaking, it's almost guaranteed there are other intelligent life forms within our own galaxy."

"Yeah. I just hope they're not all like Rita and Zedd."

Billy tilts his head, amazed that he can listen to the beating of Tommy's heart while staring up at the slowly rotating sky. "I know they aren't. There are some aliens out there, curled up on the ground, staring into the Milky Way and contemplating us right now."

Tommy makes a soft noise in the back of his throat, and for a moment they lie there in silence, contemplating contemplations. "What made you change your mind?"

"About what?"

"Wanting to travel the stars. You said you _used_ to want to."

It's something of a sensitive subject, and Billy finds himself shift in Tommy's embrace. "It's funny, really. I could have never really had the opportunity without Zordon's help, and yet it's becoming a Power Ranger that's really tied me to the Earth and convinced me I could never really leave."

"You don't think you'll ever retire like Jason and the others did?"

"Who's to say? So long as there are monsters attacking the world, the Rangers need a strong leader. As fond as I am of the others, none of them are truly cut out to be fulltime leaders. Perhaps someday . . . if I found someone I really felt I could trust the Power to . . ."

"You weren't exactly Power Ranger leader material when I first met you." Tommy says it hesitantly, as if expecting Billy to protest.

"No, I wasn't. I've come a long way and I'm good at what I do, but I'm the leader only because I have to be. If Jason came back, I would gladly and gratefully return control to him."

"I can't believe Jason gave it up, but not you. I would have never guessed it."

It's Billy turn to shrug. "Jason had a reason to give it up. Several, in fact."

"You mean Zack."

Billy takes another breath. "I used to lie out in my backyard with my father when I was a boy. He was an astronomer, you know. He taught me the names of all the stars and most of the constellations. After he died, I often wondered what the point of being a Power Ranger was if I couldn't protect the people important to me. Funny how that works, isn't it? I had no one to retire for and yet I still lost probably the most important person to me." It feels like the thin air is getting to him; his chest hurts. "He never even knew I was a Power Ranger."

"Billy . . . Man, I'm sorry."

Shaking his head, Billy curls up closer. "It's all right. I cut myself off from a lot of human interaction after the war and bottled all of my emotions up. I had to, in order to function. It's good to finally air them." He smiles and presses his cheek to Tommy's chest. "It's good to have someone to air them to."

Tommy softly strokes Billy's hair.

Moments later, a brilliant meteorite cuts across the sky. "Look, a shooting star!" Tommy gasps. It's impossible to miss, but he points with his free hand anyway. When even the green tail has faded, he drops his hand with a contended sigh. "Make a wish."

Billy doesn't believe in the magic of shooting stars, but while Tommy's staring into the sky, Billy looks up at his profile and, smiling, makes a wish.

Billy sleeps better than he has in weeks and it isn't until he wakes up to Tommy wafting a mug of freshly brewed coffee near his nose that he realizes why. There's no stress in the mountains; not even the distant roar of traffic on the street. The solitude is an escape from the pressures of the world, and Billy's body has relaxed in a way it never does in Angel Grove.

And there's Tommy, smiling at him from behind his sexy eyeglasses, holding out a mug of coffee for him. After pulling on his own glasses, Billy sits up and takes the mug gratefully, knowing he'll never forget how perfect this moment is. "Thanks." He takes a sip without moving his eyes off Tommy's face. He's the other key to the deep rest Billy experienced. Despite sharing the bed together, Billy didn't wake once to one of Tommy's nightmares. There was no thrashing in the bed or tortured whimpers. "Slept well?"

"Oh yeah." Tommy crawls over Billy to get back in bed, burrowing under the covers beside him for warmth.

"You're freezing." Billy takes another sip of his coffee—it's too strong, but not bad—and sets it aside so he can rub Tommy's hands between his.

"Haha, yeah. Good thing you're still warm." He nuzzles Billy's bare shoulder with his nose. "It snowed a little last night. Not much, but enough to dust over everything. It's really beautiful." He looks up at Billy. Behind his glasses, his eyes shine. "It's so perfect up here."

A deep sense of yearning opens in Billy's heart and he kisses Tommy, a little frightened by just how deep and intense the feeling is.

After a few minutes of kissing, Tommy's properly warmed up again and Billy returns to his coffee, which has cooled considerably. They stay snuggled up in the bed, watching the snow flurries as the wind blows it off the trees.

"Almost wish we didn't have to get out of bed at all," Billy says, once the coffee is gone.

Tommy nuzzles him again. "Why do we?"

"Well, for one, my bladder is reaching critical mass. As for the other, I told Aisha we'd meet her for lunch today." He stretches and holds back a yawn. "And tomorrow we'll probably want to head home before dark."

"Mmm." Tommy buries his face in his pillow for several seconds. "Do we really have to go back tomorrow?"

"I've got things I should be doing. You've got therapy."

"Can't we cancel them?" He sits up slightly. "I haven't felt this good in . . . ever."

Billy stares at him in wonder. "You want to cancel your Monday therapy?"

"That's all right, isn't it? I'm allowed to skip sometimes, aren't I?"

"Yes, if you're comfortable with doing so." It occurs to him only then it just might be that being up in the peaceful tranquility of the mountains is better therapy than seeing Brian twice in one week. "Well, I don't see why we have to rush home. We'll ask Aisha at lunch if we can extend our stay. I'll give Brian a call afterward to let him know you won't be in on Monday."

The way Tommy's face lights up is worth it even if he wasn't already looking forward to extending the trip. He stretches up and kisses Billy. "You're the best boyfriend ever."

Billy's not sure that he is, but he's too busy grinning over the use of the word boyfriend to protest.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter sixteen:**

"Look at you two!" Aisha says, standing up to greet Tommy and Billy once they finally arrive at the restaurant for lunch. She gives Billy a big hug, and then a slightly more restrained one to Tommy. "You fit right in here, don't you?"

"Oh man, it's been great." Tommy slips into his chair. "I've never slept so good before."

Billy hasn't been able to stop smiling since this morning. He unfolds his napkin into his lap. "The mountain air is quite refreshing. I can certainly see why you chose to relocate."

Her gaze shifts between them, scrutinizing. Before long, a sly smile spreads across her lips. "It is _about time_ you two hooked up!"

Stunned, Billy looks up at her. "What?"

Tommy's jaw actually drops. "You . . . you mean you can _tell_?"

Aisha laughs. "Y'all are both _glowing_." She sobers slightly. "I mean, it's probably not totally obvious to anyone else, but I can certainly tell." She smiles more genuinely. "Congratulations."

Flustered, Billy mutters his thanks, staring down into his lap.

Tommy remains bright and cheerful. "Haha, thanks! Hey, where's Alejandro? I thought he was gonna meet up with us for lunch, too."

Grinning even wider, Aisha leans forward. "Get this," she says in a conspiratorial tone, "he's up on the mountain peak right now, checking out this old abandoned commune. Apparently it was something of a religious hippie retreat back in the 60s and 70s; you know, during that whole Transcendental Meditation era."

Tommy's brow furrows. "That sounds kind of cool. He's just checking it out for fun, then?"

Mind refocused, Billy's suddenly envisioning an idyllic mountain retreat. "With a little renovation, an abandoned commune at the peak of a mountain would make an excellent control center for the Rangers. Our own private mountain retreat."

Glancing back and forth between them, Tommy says, "I don't get it. Don't you already have the Command Center?"

"You've been there, Tommy," Aisha says. "That's hardly a _retreat_. Apparently this place is like . . . half hotel, half school. It'd be the perfect place for us to get away from the city life. We can't all use my uncle's cabin, after all."

Billy's eyes refocus on Aisha. "Did you say it used to be a school?"

"Apparently? You'll have to ask Alejandro when he gets back. I don't think it was like a _traditional_ school, so I wouldn't worry about it too much. Just, you know, it had dormitories and things for all the religious students who came there to learn. I'm sure it's all stuff we could knock down during renovations."

"No. That could be _perfect_." Billy feels his mind suddenly going into overdrive.

Tommy stares from Billy to Aisha and back. "Perfect for what?"

Aisha shrugs.

Tommy softly laughs. "He's infurirating when he gets like this, isn't he?"

She gives a soft chuckle. "Spit it out, Billy."

Realizing they're both staring at him now, Billy shakes his head clear. "It's just an idea I've been contemplating. It may be moot if I can't wrangle us government grants. Do you know who currently owns the land?"

"That's some of what Alejandro went up there to see. That and to check out just how out of repair it all is. Thirty winters up here can destroy a place. Might not even be worth renovating."

Billy's already much too enamored with this idea. Even if they have to tear the whole place down, Billy wants it. "Can we see the location? Perhaps Alejandro could take us up there Monday?"

Aisha blinks, stunned. "Monday? But weren't you two were leaving tomorrow?"

Tommy's all smiles again. "We're having such a good time, we decided to extend our trip a few days."

Billy's quick to add, "If that's all right with your uncle, of course."

"I'm sure it's fine, though he'll be up here to use it himself by late November."

"All the more reason we ought to have a safe place for the Rangers to escape to."

Aisha frets. "It gets pretty cold up here in the winter. You're really sure you want to build a Ranger hideaway up in the mountains?" She eyes him. "Why not some place in Hawai'i?"

Chuckling, Billy says, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. If we can't even thinking about buying a rundown religious retreat in the mountains there's no way we'll be able to afford something on a tropical island."

"Well, we deserve it," Aisha says. "Even if it's only a time share."

"Oh, I certainly agree," Billy says.

He keeps it to himself for now, but he's fairly confident that with the ideas kicking around in his head that it isn't outside the realm of possibility for them to someday have retreats both in the mountains and in Hawai'i. In fact, if things go the way he wants, they might just need a place in Hawai'I to sometimes get away from their retreat in the mountains.

By the time Thursday rolls around, Billy and Tommy are rejuvenated and better than ever before. Billy's plans to buy the property up in the mountains remain strong, and for once in his leader career he's delegated the task to a non-Ranger. Alejandro's capable and experienced with property sales and Billy knows he'll do well, especially with Aisha by his side, but handing over control like that is certainly a new experience.

"It's funny," Tommy says as he flops down on the couch in the living room once they're back home. "You're supposed to feel grateful to be home after a vacation, aren't you?" He stares at the dark television. "I just wish we were back in the mountains."

"Agreed. It makes you appreciate the mountains more though, doesn't it?" He sorts through the mail that collected during their absence and frets a little over the bill for the fence. It was installed completely while they were gone and looks great and keeps the fans out. It's just a lot more money than he had anticipated. He's going to have to really start hitting the pavement with purpose tomorrow.

"I suppose." Tommy puts his feet up on his suitcase, crossing his arms. "I don't like knowing we can't escape up there in a few weeks when her uncle's using it."

Tossing the rest of the mail on the kitchen counter, Billy makes his way to the answering machine. "If it gets bad enough, we can always rent a cabin for a weekend."

"With what money?"

"Just let me worry about that."

Most of the messages on the machine are garbage from fans who've discovered the number; he's going to have to have it disconnected soon. It's at least easy to identify them within seconds so he can delete the messages without listening to them all the way through.

It's the twelfth message that draws him up short.

"Uh, hey, uh, Billy. It's Skull. Listen, I just got a really weird phone call down at the station. I guess uh, you and Tommy are up in the mountains or something right now? Apparently, there was this news report that showed you and Tommy coming out of a super market up there or something? Anyway, someone notified someone who got in contact with someone else, and today I got this call from these people claiming to be _Tommy's parents_."

Billy looks over and finds Tommy has left the couch to stand in the kitchen arch. He takes a few steps forward, staring down at the answering machine.

The playback of Skull continues, "I've got all the information they gave me and it seems to check out, so give me a call when you get back in. I guess they're really anxious to get back in touch with Tommy."

Another message begins from a fan and Billy pauses the rest of the play back. He's suddenly very glad that Tommy's got a therapy appointment this afternoon. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know." He runs a hand into his hair. "I was were never really close to my parents. I can't imagine what they're gonna have to say to me."

Tommy's reaction is surprising. "They probably think you're dead! I'm sure they'll be overjoyed to reconnect with you."

"No, you don't understand. I was always a huge disappointment to them. They hated that I spent more time on my martial arts training than I did in school. All of the accomplishments I made in karate were meaningless because I got bad grades. They practically disowned me when I dropped out of school. They're gonna be disgusted when they find out how I spent the last six years of my life." He crosses his arms and turns his back to Billy.

"Tommy."

"They didn't care when I went missing, did they? They were glad I was out of their hair; meant they didn't have to make excuses for their failure anymore."

The one thing Billy knows is that in the year he knew Tommy before all this went down, he never once met or heard from his parentsnot even on parent night. Yet, he can't bring himself to believe they don't love him. "I'm sure that's not true. They're your parents. They'll be happy to know you're alive and well."

"You don't know them, Billy. They expected me to be a doctor or lawyer or something by now. When they find out I consider it a good day if I don't break down in tears, they're going to want to officially disown me."

Billy shakes his head. "Why would they bother contacting you if they don't care about you?"

Tommy's eyes flash up, taking Billy in. "'Cause I'm on camera with you. They're probably hoping I've made something of myself if one of the Power Rangers is my friend."

Tommy stalks into the living room, giving Billy no choice but to follow. "And now you can tell them that _you_ were once a Power Ranger. You can finally confide to them that all those weeks in high school when you had to miss class and couldn't come up with reasons why were because you were fighting monsters with us. You can tell them how useful your martial arts were. You can tell them _that's_ why you dropped out of high school, and that's why you ended up in the life style you did. They're you're parents, Tommy. It's been six years. They're going to understand."

Tommy keeps his back to Billy. "You don't know that. You were always so smart. I bet your parents never gave you any shit. By the time I was in junior high, my parents were wishing they'd never adopted me."

Billy's not quite sure he knew before this moment that Tommy was adopted. "They actually told you that?"

Tommy shrugs. "Not in so many words. I could tell, though. The disappointed look in my father's eyes when I'd bring home a trophy from a karate tournament said it all. It was _never_, eGood job, Tommy' or eI'm proud of you.' It'd always just be, eI hope you finished your homework first' or eI wish you put as much effort into your school work as you did your karate.' I could be the leader of the Power Rangers and they'd still be disappointed in me."

Everything in Billy wants to protest what Tommy's saying, but the fact is, he doesn't know Tommy's parents or their reasons for behaving the way they did and arguing this point is useless and counterproductive. He should be taking Tommy's side. "You ought to at least let them know you're alive. Although they may have treated you badly growing up, it doesn't mean they don't love you and haven't missed you. Be better than them. If they haven't changed you can cut off contact with them afterward."

Tommy stalks back into the living room. "First, I want to know just what news broadcast they saw me in."

Though Billy doesn't usually let Tommy watch the news, he stands idly by as Tommy goes for the remote and begins channel hopping until he finds something on the Rangers.

What comes up is not what either of them expected.

"That's right, Deborah," one of the news anchors says, "apparently Adam Park, better known to the world as the Black Ranger, made an appearance in Soho last night, where he was seen wineing and dining with some local celebrities, including one lucky actress who claims she was asked on a date! Want to know the identity of this luck lady? We've got exclusive pictures and video coming up, so don't go away!"

Before Billy can say anything to Tommy, the camera switches over to the female news anchor.

"And if you've got Power Ranger romance on your mind, be sure to stay tuned. The world is buzzing about the young man Power Ranger leader William Cranston was seen with up in the Southern California mountains this weekend." On screen, a video shows of Billy and Tommy exiting the market together. Although it was shot across the parking lot, the camera used had a powerful enough zoom that it's easy to recognize both of them. "Keen eyes were quick to point out the identity of the man as one Thomas Oliver, a former Angel Grove High School student, but who is he and what relationship is to the Power Rangers? We'll have more information coming up soon!"

Somewhat weakly, Tommy flops back down on the couch as the television goes to commercials.

Billy remains standing, not sure which of the news blurbs unsettles him more; he makes a mental note to call Rocky after dealing with Tommy's parents. "Are you all right?"

"Fine. Just fucking fine." He kicks his shoes off and pulls his knees up to his chest.

Standing there, Billy watches as the peace and serenity accumulated over the last five days in the mountains just slides right off Tommy.

The call to Tommy's parents goes about as well as expected. Tommy grunts one word responses and Billy waits through antagonizing silence as Tommy listens to the conversation on the other end. He has no idea what's actually transpiring until Tommy says, "I guess I can ask." He sets the phone down and stares at Billy with big, sad eyes.

"What?"

"They're in _Oregon_. They moved there after the war. I guess they thought I was dead, or gave up on me or something." He shrugs and tugs at one of his curls. "They want to know if I can go up there and see them."

Billy blinks a few times. "Well, of course. Do you _want_ to go?"

"Not really." His eyes shift around the room. "They sound so happy. Seeing me will just disappoint them again. Maybe it's better if we don't meet."

Although Billy's willing to go with whatever Tommy decides, he can't help but think that seeing his parents again will help. "Would it help if I go with you?"

Finally, Tommy's gaze refocuses on Billy as he reconsiders. "It might."

"We can go see them together, then. We can teleport up just as soon as you're ready."

"I thought you had stuff to do."

"I do. I have a lot of stuff to do, but this is important."

"I don't know, Billy. I'm not saying I shouldn't see them, just maybe we should put it off for a little while longer . . ."

"It's up to you. Getting it out of the way might help get your mind off it, though. And, who knows? Perhaps it will work out well." He shrugs, thoughtfully. "I'd certainly give anything to be able to spend the holidays with my parents."

Blinking a few times, Tommy stares at him for several seconds before hesitantly picking the phone back up. "Yeah. If you don't mind if Billy comes, too. When're you available?" He nods. "Yeah. That's fine. No, it's fine; we'll teleport. Yeah." He actually manages a tiny little smile. "Yeah. Okay. See you tomorrow, then." He hangs up and lets out his breath.

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah." Tommy sags back, head resting on the top of the couch as he stares up at the ceiling. "I can't believe I'm agreeing to this."

Billy sits beside him, taking one of Tommy's hands up in his to squeeze. "It's not like you'll be trapped there. If it's too much, we can teleport back out."

Tilting his head, Tommy smiles sadly. "I could never do this without you."

"That's the truth." Billy leans over and kisses him. "I'm proud of you. I know calling them wasn't easy."

"Yeah. Opened up a whole host of things I need to talk to Brian about."

"You're ready to head to therapy, then?"

Tommy nods, his expression turning hopeful. "Unless you'd rather teleport back to Aisha's uncle's cabin?"

Chuckling, Billy shakes his head. "You can't run away from this. Come on, get your coat."

While Tommy's talking to Brian, Billy tries to contact Rocky to get more information on Adam. No one answers their house phone, though, and it's not enough of an emergency to contact him through the communicators. Instead, he gleans information from the news, cringing at the deluge of images that comes through of Adam living it up at trendy Hollywood parties.

He teleports to with Tommy to Oregon the next day.

He immediately wishes he'd brought a heavier coat. The Oregon wind slices right through the windbreaker he put on before leaving.

"I've severely underestimated just how much colder it would be here." Billy crosses his arms and glances around. Having never been to Oregon before, he teleported them to a vacant lot not far from Tommy's parent's house.

"We could always go back," Tommy hopefully says. He's got a sweater on under his jacket and is much less bothered by the cold.

"No chance. Come on. Their house should be this way."

"Look at this place," Tommy says, staring up at the multistory house they eventually stop in front before. "What do two people need a house this big for?"

Not knowing the Olivers, Billy doesn't feel at liberty to say. "Perhaps they got a good deal?"

The man who answers the door when they knock is tall, with the kind of greying beard that takes years of careful cultivation. "Tommy!" He wraps his arms around Tommy, drawing him close like a rag doll. "We thought you were going to teleport in!"

"We did, sir," Billy says. "It just seemed wise not to do so right into your living room."

Releasing Tommy, he says, "And you must be William. I'm Hank, Tommy's father."

One of Billy's hands is engulfed by a handshake. "Just Billy, please."

"You're freezing! Came right from California, did you? Amazing. Come in, come in! Margaret! The boys are here, come quick!"

Margaret comes out of the kitchen with a smile and a glass of red wine. "Oh, _Thomas_!" She's also quite tall and carefully picks her way through a living room filled with curios before giving Tommy a one-armed hug.

Billy's nearly bowled over by the rich scent of her perfume.

Tommy extracts himself as soon as possible. "Mom, Dad." He glances around the living room. "You both look . . . well."

"And you!" Margaret says. "That hair! Those glasses! Why, I hardly recognize you!"

"We didn't at all, you know," Hank says. "If it hadn't been for Ernie recognizing you and giving us a call, we might have never known it was you at all."

Billy doubts that, but holds his tongue on the subject. "Ernie? You mean the owner of the Youth Center Juice Bar?"

"Oh yes, that's the one. Very interesting man. He does love his fruit."

Margaret takes a drink from her glass. "We saw quite a bit of him after you disappeared, sweetie. He let us put up missing posters all over his building, and kept an eye out for you."

"You . . . put up missing posters for me?" Tommy stares from Hank to Margaret. "I had no idea."

Billy feels quite out of place. "Neither did I." Tommy turns to him and he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "We all sort of stopped going to the Youth Center once the high school was destroyed. With the war going on, we were all a little busy."

Margaret seems to notice him for the first time. "Oh, you must be William the Power Ranger." She looks him over quite carefully. "You seemed so much taller on television. Tell me, do you get much calcium in your diet?"

"_Mom_ . . ."

"Don't mind her, Billy," Hank says. "Let's get you boys comfortable. Can I interest you in a drink? Hours d'oeuvres? Lunch isn't quite ready yet."

"I'll take your coats," Margaret says, proceeding to do without setting down her wine glass. She raises her eyebrow at Tommy's clothes. "What a _charming_ sweater."

Billy watches Tommy self-consciously check that his sweater sleeves are covering every bit of his wrists. "I uh. I think I'll have a drink. Something warm?"

Hank brightens. "Oh, I know just the thing. Have you ever had a Hot Toddy?"

Billy winces. "He . . . he really shouldn't be drinking alcohol, Mr. Oliver." When all eyes fall on him he shrugs. "It's . . . it's a medical condition."

"You're not ill, are you?" Margaret takes Tommy's chin between her long-fingered hands, turning his head to face her.

"No." Tommy jerks his face free. "Just a hot chocolate would be fine."

"Mm." Hank gives both Tommy and Billy a good once-over. "I'll see what I can do. Make yourselves comfortable. We've got a lot of catching up to do."

The conversation with the Olivers remains strained through lunch, and Billy realizes it's because they don't know Tommy anymore than they know Billy. Even had they been involved in Tommy's life before, six years have changed them all. It's a lot more like sitting down to lunch with strangers than Billy had anticipated.

There's also the fact that, as Billy began to elaborate on only a little of what Tommy had been through over the last six years, Hank said, "Let's not spoil lunch."

After eating, they gather in the opulent living room again.

"You guys must be doing well," Tommy says, his eyes fixed on the impressive tapestry hanging over the fireplace.

Hank settles himself in an overstuffed armchair. "Our house in Angel Grove was very well insured."

"We lost so many things," Margaret laments. "Pictures and books. My mother's wedding dress." She's finally abandoned her wine glass and has sat herself right next to Tommy. "After losing you, it was just too much." She squeezes one of Tommy's hands.

"Now, now, Margaret. Don't get too worked up."

"Hush, Hank. That's enough." She doesn't take her eyes off Tommy. "I'm so sorry we weren't there for you. It's only when you look back on your life that you realize the things that were truly important to you."

"Mom." Tommy glances away, embarrassed.

Although he feels quite awkward sitting in on such a private family moment, Billy decides to intervene. "Tommy's got something very important he needs to share with you." Both Hank and Margaret look at Tommy in surprise, but Tommy stares at Billy, bewildered. "When he was at Angel Grove High, struggling to maintain his grades and keep up his martial arts training, he was also working with me and the others, as a Power Ranger."

"What!" Hank nearly gets to his feet. "Is it true?"

"No!" Though Margaret doesn't look away from Tommy, her expression clearly changes. "You never said anything!"

Tommy shakes his head. "I wasn't a very good one."

"But it's true?" Hank finally gets to his feet. "My boy! You should have told us!"

Like a melodramatic actress, Margaret puts a hand to her head. "I don't believe it!"

Since Tommy's not doing it, Billy continues. "All those times he had to miss class, he was with the Rangers. All he assignments he didn't get completed on time, he was with us. As you know, we've only recently been able to tell anyone about our secret identities. He had to keep it from you."

"Billy," Tommy says. The shocked expressions on both of his parent's faces clearly make him uncomfortable. "It's not what you think. I wasn't a good Ranger. I was . . ." He clenches his jaw for a moment. "I was the Green Ranger. The evil one controlled by Rita Repulsa."

Margaret pushes flat back on the couch, as if Tommy's words had physical strength. "The Green Ranger!"

"What did that evil woman do to you, Tommy! You haven't an evil bone in your body!"

Billy finds he can't look at any of them. "She put him under a mind control spell. He didn't have any choice but to obey her. Fortunately, we were able to eventually free him, and he was able to fight with us until his powers faded."

"I remember that!" Hank says. "I remember the newspaper headlines, and when he switched sides. That was _you_!"

"Yeah." Tommy tugs at the crease of his jeans. "I did a lot more damage than I did good, though."

Finally, Billy finds he's able to look at Tommy. "That's not true. Empirically, it's not. You saved the lives of all of the Rangers more than once, and the world."

Tommy stares at his lap.

"Tommy!" Margaret pushes off the couch and throws her arms around him. "We should have known."

"Mom, please. I was still a bad student. Sometimes I just forgot to do assignments, or to turn them in. I still spent too much time practicing martial arts instead of studying."

"If I had known you were saving the world with those skills!" Hank booms. "We only ever wanted the best for you, Tommy."

Margaret is openly weeping. "We thought tough love was the right way. We didn't want you to be too attached to us. We wanted you to find your own place in the world and to strive to be the best. We never dreamed we'd really run you off."

"All those years," Hank says. "We searched all over for you."

Billy has no idea how to breech such a sensitive subject, but since Tommy appears to be shutting down, he tries. "Losing the power isn't easy. It's a little like dropping an addiction cold turkey. With the war brewing and Tommy withdrawing, he . . . slipped through the cracks of society."

"_Billy_," Tommy finally whispers.

"You have to tell them."

Silence stretches through the living room as Tommy struggles with his next words. "I . . . I started working at a club. I met this guy and . . ." He swallows hard. "I danced for money, which I spent on drugs. I was a wreck. I hardly even knew there was a war at all. After everything I'd donethe people I'd hurt, the buildings I destroyedI belonged in that club. It was wretched, but I deserved it." He blinks a few times before shifting his gaze to Billy. "Or . . . at least I thought I did until Billy found me."

To Billy's surprise, Tommy reaches out and takes Billy's hand in his. His grip is fierce. Drawing a deep breath, Billy takes over the story. "I convinced him to leave the club. It took a little more persuasion to convince his boss to release him from his contract. I regret not having searched for him sooner."

Margaret wipes her eyes. "You should have come to us, Tommy."

Tommy lowers his gaze. "I couldn't."

"He was very set in his ways," Billy says. "It took considerable perseverance and effort to get him to finally leave with me. He's been staying in my home several months now and is doing much better." He smiles admiringly. "His recovery has been quite remarkable."

"I owe it all to Billy." He finally glances back at his parents. "I really thought you'd never want to see me again. I'd disappointed you so many times . . .. I thought you'd be glad to finally be rid of me."

"Oh, son. We never meant it. Not like that." Hank steps close, reaching down to squeeze Tommy's shoulder. "You're our son and we love you no matter what."

"All those years we were trying to mold you into the perfect little academic star we completely ignored your natural talents." Margaret sniffles loudly. "You were out saving the world and had to come home to angry parents, berating you for ignoring your stupid essays! Will you ever forgive us?"

Turning back to his mother, Tommy shakes his head. "I never blamed you. I only ever wanted to make you proud of me."

"You have, son!" Hank says. "You have! There isn't a prouder father in the world. A Power Ranger! My son!"

"But I was the _evil_ one, Dad!"

"If you were ever evil, it's only because your mother and I weren't there for you growing up! If anyone should be blamed for what the Green Ranger did, it's me!"

"Dad, no."

As Tommy starts to stand, Billy's communicator gives off its dreaded little chirp.

Both Hank and Margaret would have ignored it, but Tommy spins around instantly. "No."

Billy winces. "I'm afraid so."

"What is it?" Hank asks, looking between them. "What was that?"

Instead of explaining, Billy just answers. "I read you Zordon."

"Master Vile has released another monster on Angel Grove. Teleport to the Command Center immediately."

The look on both Hank and Margaret's faces is priceless. Despite the graveness of the situation, Billy can't believe how long he's wanted to do something like that. "I'll be there right away." He looks up at Tommy. "Can I leave you here?"

"I hate this so much."

Getting to his feet, Billy says, "I know, but it'll be all right. I'll come back as soon as we're done."

"What if you don't?"

"I _will_. Enjoy reconnecting with your parents."

"Promise me you'll be careful."

"I will."

"_Promise_ me."

Billy feels the seconds ticking away. "I promise. I'll be back before you know it." He steps back. "Mr. and Mrs. Oliver. It's been a pleasure. I apologize I have to run out on you like this."

They're both too dumbfounded to reply.

"Billy, wait." Before Billy can reply, Tommy grabs him and kisses him. "That's for luck."

Being kissed in front of Tommy's parents makes Billy's heart rate sky rocket, but also leaves him glowing, feeling like he belongs. "I'll be back soon." He nods once more and then teleports out.


End file.
